APR  2  1920 

Division 
Section    .  S  b  3 


I 


THE  POWERS  AND  AIMS  OF 
WESTERN  DEMOCRACY 


Digitized  by  tine  Internet  Arcliive 
in  2015 


littps://arcliive.org/details/powersaimsofwestOOsloa 


THE  POWERS  AND  AIMS  OF 
WESTERN  DEMOCRACY 


BY 

WILLIAM  MILLIGAN  SLOANE,  L.H.D.,  LL.D. 

MEMBER  OF  THE  AMERICAN  ACADEMY  OF  ARTS  AND  LETTERS 


NEW  YORK 
CHARLES  SCRIBNER'S  SONS 
1919 


COPTRIOBT,  1919,  BY 

CHARLES  SCRIBNER  S  SONS 


Published  September,  1919 


PREFACE 


The  following  pages  were  in  type  before  the  recent 
Treaty  of  Versailles  was  completed  and  signed.  In 
consequence  of  this  there  are  of  necessity  occasional 
verbal  ineptitudes  not  fitting  the  moment  of  publica- 
tion, and  for  these  the  author  asks  friendly  consider- 
ation. But  what  he  began  to  write  before  the  period 
of  the  Great  War  and  has  completed  within  it,  is  his 
deliberate  opinion:  that  democracy  is  in  its  essence 
conservative,  that  the  drift  toward  socialism  is  an 
attack  on  its  very  life,  that  the  democratic  nation  is 
the  best  form  of  human  association  so  far  devised, 
and  that  neither  democracy  nor  nationality  insures 
enduring  peace.  It  is  a  tremendous  gain  that  the 
concept  both  of  lasting  peace  and  a  republic  of  man- 
kind is  at  last  considered  a  working  hypothesis,  even 
if  fulfilment  be  postponed. 


# 


CONTENTS 


INTRODUCTION 


PAGE 


The  Passing  Age  in  Politics 


3 


I.    THE  DEVELOPMENT  OF  DEMOCRACY 
IN  THOUGHT  AND  ACTION 


Its  etymology;  a  good  meaning  for  a  bad  word — As  an  ideal;  as  a  fact:  boss 
rule?  many  oppressed  by  few? — As  a  sovereignty;  so  splintered  as  internal  that 
it  becomes  indistinguishable;  external,  based  on  forbearance  of  others — Extrava- 
gant and  inefficient  ?  Genesis  of  the  state;  two  doctrines:  social  and  individual — 
Biologists  individualistic;  psychologists  social — Biology  and  anthropology  neu- 
tral; psychology  and  linguistics  social — History  also  social;  the  primitive  family 
state;  man  a  political  animal — Abnormal  expansion  of  family;  gens,  clan,  tribe, 
city,  state — Monogamic  family  the  climax;  psychologic  evolution  the  bond — 
False  keys  to  history.  The  state  an  organism  of  organisms — Every  stage  of  de- 
velopment a  stage  of  advance  by  individuals  to  lihierty — The  struggle  for  in- 
dividuality is  a  struggle  for  larger  participation  in  politics — Our  democracy  based 
on  the  concept  of  taxation  as  a  gift  and  on  the  contract  theory:  both  fallacies — 
Liberty  impossible  without  the  state. 


Beginnings  in  Egypt  and  Chaldea  exhibit  property  as  the  cornerstone  of  personal 
liberty — The  embryo  of  democracy  among  the  freemen.  Rise  of  tyranny — Con- 
tributions of  the  city-state  to  democracy.  The  principles  first  of  universal, 
second  of  natural,  right — The  stoics  and  inherent  rights.  The  jus  gentium — 
One  permanent  gain,  that  laws  drew  validity  from  the  popular  will,  i.  e.,  of  the  free- 
men and  military  class — Futility  of  political  theory  in  the  ancient  world — No 
liberty  or  freedom  in  reality;  but  potent  concepts  and  dim  visions  of  it — Chris- 
tianity introduces  the  right  of  choice  as  basic  to  spiritual  life.  Duty  to  God  and 
neighbor — The  world  of  status  turned  upside  down — The  teaching  of  Augustine — • 
of  Gratian  and  Aquinas— Marsilius  of  Padua;  popular  sovereignty  in  church  and 
state — The  reformation  and  the  right  of  private  judgment — The  influence  of 
Calvin  on  democracy. 

III.    Democracy  IN  History:  Puritanism  .  ...  47 

The  Puritan  revolution  in  England — The  restoration  and  the  revolution  of  1688 — 
Puritan  revival  in  the  eighteenth  century — The  new  tories  in  England  and  America 
— The  whigs  in  England  and  America — The  free-thinkers  and  Rousseau — Idea  of 
the  popular  will;  democracy  and  plutocracy — Beginning  in  moderate  conserva- 
tism, America  has  reached  moderate  liberalism — The  charters  in  American 
colonies — Religious  and  civil  inequality- — The  lawyers  and  bills  of  rights — 
Limitation  of  popular  sovereignty — French  democracy  and  its  influence — The 
history  of  democracy  that  of  an  efiort  to  express  the  popular  will  in  action  without 
ham  to  liberty. 


I.    Democracy:  Its  Natural  History 


21 


II.    Democracy  in  History 


36 


vii 


viii 


CONTENTS 


PAGE 

IV.  Democracy  IN  History :  Its  Institutions  .  .  57 

Embryonic  popular  will — personal  choice  in  the  vote,  popular  will  in  majority — 
Embryonic  organs  of  the  jxipular  will — Their  difference  in  peace  and  war — • 
money  cost  of  expressing  popular  will— Democracy  the  most  expensive  form  of 
government — Party  government  and  professional  politicians — The  dark  sides  of 
non-representative  democracies — Efforts  toward  direct  democracy  and  the  ex- 
pansion of  the  suffrage — Restraints  on  the  abuse  of  popular  sovereignty — Limita- 
tions in  the  exercise  of  suffrage — Constitutions  and  their  function — Declaration  of 
rights — Relations  of  minority  and  majority. 

V.  Democracy  in  History:  Its  Devices   ....  67 

The  representative  system — Taxation — The  tory  concept  of  representation; 
delegation — Methods  of  choosing  representatives — Representation  of  minorities 
and  interests — Reaction  of  its  organs  on  pure  democracy — The  American  president 
as  a  representative — Men  and  systems  in  democracy — The  three  imperial  de- 
mocracies— Essential  democracy  of  Great  Britain — Democratic  elements  in 
various  states — Careers  open  to  talents  in  the  Orient — Church  and  empire 
in  Europe — Influence  of  nationality. 

VI.  Democracy:  Its  Formula  and  Terms  .  ...  77 

Habit  and  force  as  sanctions  of  conduct;  sovereignty  more  and  more  divided  in 
the  evolution  of  democracy — Freedom  and  liberty  under  various  forms  of  de- 
mocracy— The  poUtocrat  as  an  adviser  of  ignorant  voters — Democracy  as  a  task- 
master in  political  education — Survival  of  misleading  terms;  individuals  exert  no 
sovereignty  and  retain  no  right  except  that  to  agitate  and  upturn;  every  system 
of  democracy  dependent  on  the  majority  of  those  who  work  it;  bad  men  in 
minority  may  be  reformed;  measures  helpless  to  produce  equality,  must  be  sup- 
plemented by  men — Equality  in  possession  of  civil  and  political  rights  only,  never 
in  their  exercise,  where  ability  counts — The  passion  for  inequality  a  menace  to 
democracy — Possession  of  civil  rights  importunes  political  and  finally  social  rights 
— Claims  of  the  weak  on  the  strong;  state  socialism  a  menace — Bureaucracy,  civil 
service,  office-holders  a  menace  likewise — Politocrats  and  plutocrats,  their  danger- 
ous alliance — Democracy  a  chameleon  in  its  hues. 

VII.  Democracy:  The  Foes  in  Its  Household   .  92 

Passion  for  expansion  of  domestic  rights  jeopardizes  democracy — Overthrow  of 
church  authority  by  right  of  free  thought — False  emphasis  on  rights;  duties  for- 
gotten, rulers  despised — Democratic  state  of  mind  tends  to  retard  prompt  ad- 
ministration— Resort  to  discipline  and  dictatorship  in  crises — Tyranny  and  oli- 
garchy in  democracies:  Sparta,  Germany,  United  States — Indictments  of 
American  democracy;  Brentano  and  Ostrogorsky — The  democratic  state  of  mind 
in  Germany — External  forces  mould  continental  democracy — Social  democracy  in 
Germany  misnamed;  wants  share  in  government — Democracy  in  Russia,  the 
Orient,  and  Mediterranean  lands — French  democracy  centralized  and  imperialistic. 

VIII.  Democracy:  Its  Gains  109 

Democracy  has  new  ideal  of  "hfe" — Also  of  philanthropy  and  "liberty "—also 
of  "pursuit  of  happiness" — Makes  for  purity  and  mildness,  theoretical  equality — 
Has  transformed  degree  and  extent  of  education— Dangers  in  quality  of  teach- 
ing and  expansion  of  courses — Has  set  a  new  task  for  the  universities — Has 
created  wide-spread  virtuous  discontent — Has  created  a  social  conscience,  with 
new  views  about  duty,  self-denial,  and  equality — Crude  concepts  of  democratic 
morality  req\iire  classification;  demands  sanction  of  force  for  all  military  service; 
injects  elements  of  reality  into  dreamy  Utopias— Adjusts  secular  morals  to  suc- 
cessive states  of  society;  remodels  political  systems  to  suit — Discovers  distinctions 
between  liberty  and  license. 


CONTENTS 


ix 


PACE 

IX.  Democracy  and  Efficiency — i  127 

Democracy  the  medium  of  modern  life — Degrees  of  feeling  and  realization — De- 
grees of  efficiency — Democracy  and  bureaucracy — The  social  conscience — our 
democracy  tenacious  of  continuity  in  peace — But  also  in  war — Its  efficiency  in 
invention  and  its  generosity  to  public  servants— Its  success  in  diplomacy — The 
modern  concept  of  state  systems— Our  democracy  not  service;  degree  of  self- 
knowledge — Versatility  of  its  artistic  genius — Commodity  of  city  life — The 
"melting-pot"  idea  and  its  limitations — Reversion  to  colonialism — Freedom  and 
servitude— Liberty  and  duty. 

X.  Democracy  AND  Efficiency — II  140 

Humanitarian  liberty  of  doubtful  value — Abuse  of  the  word  "ideal" — Perversion 
of  meaning  in  the  word  "natural" — Limitations  on  the  sense  of  "equality" — The 
new  slavery — Our  states  as  laboratories  for  the  testing  of  novelties — New  forms 
of  town  and  city  government — Democracy  and  petty  revolutions — Democracy 
efficient  in  war — Battle  with  radicahsm — Transformation  in  democracy  at  war — 
Leadership — Democracy  and  strategy — Government  a  deistic  conception — De- 
mocracy and  the  divine  right  of  the  people — Inconsistencies  of  all  governments — 
The  abnegation  of  extremes. 


II.   THE  EVOLUTION  OF  THE  MODERN 
NATION 

I.  Democracy  and  the  Nation  155 

Changes  in  the  meaning  of  terms — Divergent  meanings  of  the  word  nation — Rus- 
sia under  the  Czars  and  the  French  republic — Nation  and  people — The  question 
of  size;  Denmark — Geographical  unity  and  natural  boundaries— The  question  of 
religious  confession — ^The  community  of  custom — Economic  unity — The  ethical 
character  of  the  nation — The  use  of  dynasties  in  history — Race,  religion,  language, 
custom,  and  community  of  interest  as  unifying  forces — Community  gf  rights; 
Switzerland — The  nation  as  a  sovereign  and  a  moral  organism — The  field  of 
inquiry. 

II.  The  Method  of  Inquiry  168 

The  question  of  investigation — Distinctions  between  law  and  morals  in  history — 
Government  as  a  science  and  as  an  art — PoUtical  speculation  in  the  United  States 
— ^The  literature  of  the  topic — Potency  of  political  thinking — Interrelation  of  na- 
tions— Essential  difference  between  political  and  natural  science — Public  and 
private  law — History,  politics,  and  economics — Political  ethics — The  \ndividual 
and  the  nation — Public  and  personal  duty — History  and  philosophy  as  comple- 
ments— Development  of  personal  capacity — Statesmen  and  history — The  empiric 
and  the  ideologue. 

III.  The  Course  of  Political  Theory  180 

Personal  elements  in  primitive  nations — Confusion  of  temporal  and  spiritual 
power — Survivals  of  theocracy  and  of  joint  families — The  city-state  of  Greece 
and  Rome — -Their  historic  development — Character  and  influence  of  pglitical 
theory — The  maxims  of  the  stoic  philosophy — The  influence  oi  Christianity — ■ 
Separation  of  church  and  state — National  organization  and  religious  ideals — 
The  universal  church  hostile  to  the  nation — Tendency  to  nationality — Theories  of 
relation  between  spiritual  and  secular  powers — Change  from  metaphysical  to 
historical  thought — The  doctrine  of  sovereignty. 


X 


CONTENTS 


PACK 

IV.  The  Nation  in  Theory  and  Fact  193 

Relation  of  theory  to  fact — Supernatural  authority  in  the  nation — The  state 
an  institution  ordained  of  God — National  authority  considered  as  an  evil — • 
The  force  theory — The  social-contract  theory — Reasons  for  its  discredit — The 
derivation  of  the  state  from  the  family — Government  and  the  state  an  immoral 
incident — The  nation  as  a  jural  society — The  nation  as  an  economic  society — 
The  state  as  a  moral  organism — Speculation  based  on  prehistoric  investigation — 
The  primitive  society  a  family  relationship — Local  family  worship  a  bond  of  union 
— Federation  of  tribes — The  city-state. 

V.  The  Modern  Nation   206 

Liberty,  the  man,  and  the  community — The  ideal  community  directive,  not  coer- 
cive— Relation  of  man  and  his  surroundings— Classes  in  the  nation — Amelioration 
by  private  means  and  public  effort — Dangers  of  political  Calvinism  and  the  jural 
state — The  meaning  of  individuality— Meanings  of  the  phrase  "natural  rights" — 
legal,  moral,  and  natural  rights — The  social  conscience:  the  nation  an  organism — 
Its  duty  to  enlarge  personal,  and  diminish  social,  rights — Limitations  on  coercive 
rights  of  the  nation — International  rights,  coercive  and  directive. 

VI.  The  Oriental  State  and  Nation   219 

The  ancient  east  unconsciously  historical — Rudiments  of  both  nation  and  state — 
Ancient  Oriental  monarchies  defective  in  political  ideas— The  basis  of  authority 
conquest,  its  sanction  theocratic — The  common  interest  of  common  bondage — 
Equality  among  subjects:  liberty  unknown — The  form  and  extent  of  sovereignty 
— Contrasts  between  forms  of  bondage  due  to  physical  geography — Self-indulgence 
and  self-ignorance — Methods  of  despotism — Society  artificial  but  unorganized — 
The  city-state  of  the  Orient.  Carthage — The  collective  will  in  Greece  and  Rome 
— The  Roman  provinces  and  Roman  empire — Relation  of  state  and  church  in 
Byzantium — The  growth  of  individuality. 

VII.  The  Medi.eval  State  233 

Charlemagne.  The  holy  Roman  empire — Feudalism  in  the  state— The  thir- 
teenth century  and  nationality — The  nation  and  the  subject — Feudalism  in  the 
church  very  fluid — Feudalism  in  cities  formal  and  incomplete — Feudalism  as  the 
oppressor  of  agricultural  laborers— Revivals  of  the  human  spirit — Renewed  com- 
mercial enterprise.  Discoverj'  and  invention — New  birth  of  the  fine  arts — En- 
largement of  feudal  units — The  reformation — Completed  sense  of  personal  re- 
sponsibiUty — Forms  of  the  reformation — Influence  oli  Calvin  on  politics — Eco- 
nomic results. 

VIII.  The  Modern  State   247 

Roman  and  Teutonic  branches.  Religious  liberty — Absolutism  and  ecclesiastic- 
ism — Confusion  of  powers  due  to  survivals — Dynastic  politics  opposed  to  national 
— Elements  of  a  national  state — Personal  responsibility  and  the  public  good — Al- 
liance between  burgesses  and  barons  in  England — The  device  of  representation — 
The  device  of  parties — The  British  people  and  a  parliamentary  king — Liberty  and 
property.  The  American  Revolution — Defects  of  the  British  system.  Taxation 
— The  Revolution  of  178Q — Unity  of  government  and  nation — Sovereignty  and 
constitutional  government — The  American  constitution  and  democracy — Where 
sovereignty  resides— Democracy  dependent  on  enlightened  citizenship. 

IX.  The  Nation  and  Its  Home  261 

Earth  and  man — Influence  of  the  people  on  the  land — Natural  boundaries  and 
surveyors'  lines — The  exercise  of  authority — Sovereignty  dependent  on  territory 
— Reaction  of  the  land  on  its  inhabitants — The  land  and  social  institutions 


CONTENTS 


XI 


— Influence  of  natural  resources— Forms  of  land  tenure— Landlordism  and  small 
holdings — The  metayer  system  in  America — Collectivists  and  joint  ownership  — 
Nationalization  of  land:  freehold  ownership — Relation  of  the  state  to  land 
titles — The  law  of  diminishing  returns — Dwellers  on  the  soil  in  relation  to  its  full 
development. 

PACE 

X.  The  Nation  and  the  People  275 

Heterogeneous  elements  in  the  modern  nation — Enormous  territory  and  enormous 
population — Desire  for  least  government,  universal  suffrage,  and  state  interfer- 
ence— Popular  self-control  by  a  people's  other  self — Abuse  of  state  protection  by 
politocrats — Restriction  of  immigration— Protection  against  degeneracy — Conges- 
tion of  population — Character  of  immigration— Naturalization  laws — Reform 
demanded,  not  revolution — Improvident  marriages — The  moral  remedy  for 
threatening  dangers — The  menace  of  extreme  socialism  and  anarchy — The  sphere 
of  state  interference  in  society — Legislation  as  an  art  different  from  the  science 
of  legislation — Religion  and  the  modern  nation — Remedial  and  directive  legisla- 
tion. 

XI.  The  Nation  and  Social  Classes  291 

Social  classes  in  the  nineteenth  century— French  socialism — St.  Simon,  Fourier, 
Blanc — The  burgesses  in  power — Malthus  and  Owen:  Maurice  and  Kingsley — 
The  new  electorate  and  the  laboring  class — Marx,  Engels,  and  Wolff — Prophets  of 
the  socialistic  stage  of  government — Labor  and  wages — Cooperation  in  produc- 
tion and  distribution — The  basis  of  Marxism.  The  proletariat — Reforms  ac- 
complished, but  discontent  growing — Reformers  and  revolutionaries  demand  state 
control — The  appeal  to  force — Fallacies  of  socialistic  reasoning — The  social  classes 
and  their  organization — The  lowest  class  as  a  beneficiary  of  society — Impossibility 
of  a  purely  economic  state. 

XII.  The  Nation  and  the  Individual  305 

The  free  man  the  ultimate  fact  in  social  evolution — Christian  socialists  and  social 
democrats — The  so-called  ideals  of  anarchy — The  true  ideals  of  Christianity — 
Danger  in  weakening  personal  responsibility — The  menace  of  corporate  associa- 
tions— The  historical  school  of  socialists — Directive  powers  of  government — The 
socialized  nation  a  probability — The  social  alliances  of  existing  governments — 
Interrelationship  of  nations  and  peoples — Restoration  of  checks  and  balances  de- 
manded— Taxation,  extravagance,  sectionalism — High  cost  of  living  in  a  federal 
democracy — Legislation  controlled  by  median  not  average  wants,  the  interaction 
of  private  and  public  virtue. 


III.    THE  STRUGGLE  FOR  PEACE 

I.  The  Idea  and  Philosophy  of  Peace  323 

State  federation  and  world  peace — Hero  and  prophet  worship — War  and  history 
— The  peace  idea  in  embryo — The  Hebrew  view — The  secular  conception — War  as 
a  condition;  or  a  crime — The  first  true  philosophy  of  peace.  Kant — The  war 
code  of  the  Jews — The  Greek  attitude  toward  war — The  stranger  as  an  enemy  and 
as  a  friend — The  Christian  doctrine  of  peace — The  second  development  of  the 
peace  idea — The  inauguration  and  evolution  of  peace  speculation — Cruce,  or  De 
la  Croix — Outline  of  his  plan — The  theologians  of  the  seventeenth  century  and  war. 

II.  Suggestions  for  Enduring  Peace  337 

The  secular  principle  of  right.  Grotius — Locke  as  a  peace  supporter — The 
Quakers.    Penn  and  Barclay — Bossuet,  Fenelon  and  St.  Pierre — The  plan  of  St. 


xii 


CONTENTS 


Pierre  and  its  influence — Rousseau's  "extract"  from  St.  Pierre  as  a  new  contri- 
bution—The school  of  Ange  Gondard — Bentham's  juristic  plan — The  Germans  be- 
fore Kant.  Lessing — The  eighteenth  century  eager  for  enduring  peace — Kant's 
peace  philosophy  of  law — Kant's  peace  philosophy  of  history — His  summary  in 
theory  and  practice — His  originality  and  advance — Futility  of  early  nineteenth- 
century  ideas — The  betrayal  of  Kant  in  Germany  begun  by  Fichte — SchelUng  and 
Hegel  complete  the  process. 

PAGE 

III.   America  and  the  Peace:  Our  Concepts  .  .  357 

War  the  actuality  of  history.  Peace  the  exception  and  ideal — Stable  peace 
obstructed  by  the  stratification  of  men  in  civilization — Lasting  peace  possible  only 
in  the  considerate  treatment  of  the  parties,  whatever  their  culture— Differences  of 
sanction  behind  municipal  and  international  law:  moral  force  stronger  than  physi- 
cal force — Precepts  of  wisdom  behind  all  legislation;  to  be  expanded  in  interna- 
tional relations-— Our  participation  in  actual  war  because  these  were  outraged — 
The  public  law  of  Europe  transformed  by  the  appearance  of  America  as  a  world- 
power — The  old  international  law  in  seven  stages — Wheaton's  definition  the  most 
valid — Sovereignty,  independence,  equality:  a  grammar  of  politics,  whose  rules 
are  proved  by  exceptions — The  nineteenth  century  concept  of  peace.  Kant's 
Utopia — Some  elements  of  the  Utopia  realized.  Social  justice— Expansion  of  the 
concept  hostile  to  imperialism,  to  secret  diplomacy  and  to  a  double  state  system 
of  alliances— War  of  the  present  time  to  secure  hereafter  consent  of  the  governed 
in  both  external  and  internal  matters.  The  power  emphasized  into  a  novelty — 
Is  peace  possible  on  the  basis  of  levelling? — Homogeneity  in  politics  dangerous 
even  if  possible.  All  life  the  interplay  between  divergencies — The  condition  of 
stability  in  peace  that  each  people  should  have  comfortable  institutions — One 
type  of  intervention  discredited,  another  on  trial. 


IV.  Further  Concepts  of  the  Peace  375 

Popular  participation  in  making  war  and  peace  so  far  very  slight — Legal  ability 
and  technicality  in  control  of  international  relation.  Change  demanded — The 
ideal  of  publicity  in  diplomacy  and  arbitration.  The  new  intervention — Demand 
for  direct  popular  control  in  public  law.  Daily  expedients  for  daily  needs — 
Conspicuous  example  of  the  United  States  in  harmonizing  municipal  with  public 
law — A  still  greater  novelty  is  intervention  by  war  to  maintain  ideals,  not  for  ma- 
terial gain — The  intervention  of  all  existing  states  in  each  other's  affairs  as  an  ad- 
vance toward  perpetual  peace:  St.  Pierre,  Rousseau,  Bentham,  Kant,  Wheaton — 
The  mobilization  of  democratic  states  for  peace  a  corollary  of  their  mobilization 
for  war.  Questions — Failure  of  old  expedients  to  answer  them.  The  economic 
interpretation  as  a  key — Fallacies  to  be  exposed — Duty  to  posterity.  Conserva- 
tion of  natural  resources — The  integration  of  democracy — Antagonized  by  na- 
tionalism— Neutralization  of  American  as  well  as  of  other  interests.  The  imperial 
domain  and  the  Panama  Canal. 

V.  Origins  of  the  War:    Primary  Negotia- 

tions— I   393 

The  unstable  equilibrium  of  international  relations — Religious  rivalries  in  the 
centre  and  east  of  Europe— Use  of  them  by  Abdul  Hamid — First  phase  of  German 
ascendancy — Transformation  of  policies  in  prosperity — The  state  of  the  German 
mind — Divided  judgments  but  unity  of  purpose.  RealpoUtik — Turkey  aban- 
doned by  Great  Britain  adopts  Germany — Pan-Germany  and  imperial  expansion 
— Delcasse  and  King  Edward.  The  secrecy  of  the  entente— Outcome  of  the  dip- 
lomatic revolution — Respective  responsibiUties  of  the  belligerents — The  chief 
cause  of  the  war — The  contributing  causes.  Belgium  and  Servia — Great  Servia 
aspirations.   Italian  policy. 


CONTENTS 


xlii 


PAGE 


VI.    History  and  Geography  in  the  Nineteenth 


The  general  association  of  nations  as  an  influence  by  sea,  and  by  land — Failures 
of  the  Berlin  congress  of  1878.  Change  of  British  policy — Peace  congresses  and 
the  map  of  Europe — Enumeration  of  peace  congresses  since  1815 — Their  conserva- 
tive attitude — The  recent  conference  and  the  map — First  primary  consideration 
Belgium  and  Alsace — The  settlement  of  a  new  "  public  right " — "  Reparation,  resti- 
tution, guarantees" — The  question  of  colonies — The  economic  question — The  Bal- 
kan question — ^The  enforcement  of  the  conclusions  reached  by  conference — Mini- 
mum terms  of  peace — Public  opinion  and  terms  of  peace. 


VII.   The  Conflict  of  Ideals  With  Possible 


An  armed  truce  the  first  step  toward  peace — What  must  be  deferred.  Institu- 
tional reforms — Regeneration  of  nationality,  culture,  and  democracy — Poland, 
Bohemia,  and  Jugo-Slavia — Unreconciled  race-stocks — Question  of  Asiatic  and 
African  nationalities — Is  there  a  "right"  of  nationahty?  Language  question — 
The  struggle  of  "cultures" — Unsettled  conceptions  of  democracy — The  socialistic 
state  now  and  hereafter — Proposed  revolution  in  living  conditions — Our  imme- 
diate concern  in  the  peace  is  time  to  settle  internal  affairs — Peace  with  honor  or 
dishonor.  Facts  of  alliance  stronger  than  denial  of  alliance — The  case  of  the 
Ukraine  illustrates  our  possible  obligations— Peace  with  honor  impossible  with- 
out time  to  arbitrate  all  these  poignant,  persistent  demands.  Limitations  of  the 
doctrine  of  interference  essential:  Wild  Europe  must  probably  try  all  the  phases 
of  historic  experience:  emancipation,  dictatorship,  constitutional  monarchy  and 
representative  government — The  sum  of  the  whole  matter  is  that  the  doctrine  of 
perpetual  peace  is  at  last  a  working  hypothesis  and  that  the  gains  of  struggle, 
however  meagre,  must  be  registered  in  the  public  law. 

VIII.    Peace  as  the  Test  of  Our  Democracy  .  .  454 

The  efiBciency  of  American  democracy;  military,  financial,  economic,  and  moral 
■ — Supreme  test  the  fulfilment  of  peace  terms;  firm,  definite,  and  enduring  peace 
— Correction  of  those  false  and  distorted  conceptions  of  nationality  which  under- 
lay all  other  causes  of  the  war — Our  union  the  conspicuous  example  of  coordinating 
national  [municipal]  law  with  international  law:  has  afforded  the  first  example  of 
declaring  war  in  support  of  the  latter — Have  we  also  created  a  public  opinion  which 
expresses  itself  internationally? — The  doctrine  of  non-intervention  to  be  sub- 
stantially modified  but  not  nullified — Among  questions  regarded  at  first  as  second- 
ary, those  of  the  Atlantic  and  Pacific  have  become  primary — Our  eastern  shore 
compelled  to  look  eastward:  the  importing  and  immigrant  shore — The  Pacific 
states  should  study  and  state  the  Pacific  problem:  the  exporting  and  world- 
market  shore — Our  eastern  and  middle  states  fairly  clear  as  to  trans-Atlantic 
policy:  The  Pacific  states  superbly  patriotic,  but  also  disposed  to  look  eastward — ■ 
Their  specific  task  to  create  a  definite  public  opinion  as  to  Pacific  problems — Our 
deplorable  lack  in  the  comprehension  of  the  Far  East.  No  schools  of  commerce 
or  diplomacy  to  study  its  peoples,  tongues,  and  point  of  view — ^The  homogeneity 
of  the  Pacific  population  should  hghten  the  task  of  concentrating  public  opinion — 
The  naval  strategy  of  the  Pacific.  Instances  of  ignorance  and  indifference- 
Geography  and  physiography  of  the  Pacific  not  studied  as  are  those  of  the  Atlantic 
— Ocean  highways  determinative  factors  in  peace  as  well  as  in  war:  interdepend- 
ence of  nations  based  on  the  knowledge  and  use  of  them — Enduring  peace  depend- 
ent on  the  fairness  and  justice  of  settlements:  and  the  Pacific  question  second  to 
no  other  in  importance — There  should  be  no  sensitiveness  as  to  what  one  region 
of  the  United  States  thinks  of  another.  Each  must  perform  its  own  task  and  im- 
pose on  the  others  principles  of  right  thinking  and  just  dealing  as  to  the  whole. 


Century 


413 


Attainment 


433 


Index 


471 


I 


INTRODUCTION 


THE  PASSING  AGE  IN  POLITICS 


Among  the  forerunners  of  the  present  Utopian  and 
sociaHstic  age,  the  self-styled  Christian  socialists  of  the 
nineteenth  century,  a  favorite  truism  was:  As  men 
think  so  they  believe  and  as  they  believe  so  they 
behave.  At  no  time  would  it  be,  or  have  been, 
impossible  for  the  multitude  to  overthrow  its  govern- 
ment and  dismiss  its  rulers  by  sheer  physical  force. 
But  the  multitude  did  no  real  thinking,  and  for  long 
the  idea  of  such  an  upheaval  did  not  occur  to  the 
ignorant  masses,  the  dumb,  driven,  cattle;  cowed, 
and  content. 

"  Ah  !    Ignorance  !  soft,  salutary  power  ! 
Prostrate  with  filial  reverence  I  adore," 

wrote  Gray,  the  cosmic  poet. 
In  other  words  of  his: 

"  Thought  would  destroy  their  paradise. 
Where  ignorance  is  bliss  'tis  folly  to  be  wise." 

To  think  hard,  define  your  meaning,  and  lay  down 
a  maxim  of  conduct  is  a  process  which  hurts,  and  few 
indulge  in  it.  Fewer  still  act  or  are  willing  to  act  on 
the  maxim,  when  formulated.  Yet  there  always  have 
been  and  will  be  a  few,  very  few  perhaps,  but  still 
some,  thinkers.  In  the  Orient  thought  for  ages  was 
the  bulwark  of  contentment,  the  mainstay  of  con- 
servatism. In  the  Occident  it  has  been  quite  other- 
wise; for  political  thinking  has  bred  discontent,  then 
unrest,  then  political  revolution  of  some  sort.  In 

3 


4       THE  PASSING  AGE  IN  POLITICS 


the  truest  sense  the  history  of  western  thought  is  the 
history  of  politics,  the  successive  stages  of  human 
organization  for  the  preservation  and  safety  of  life 
and  property;  for  freedom  of  thought,  speech,  and 
action;  as  far  as  compatible  with  the  general  will 
and  well-being.  Without  recurring  to  far  antiquity 
we  recall  that  the  free-thinkers  of  the  eighteenth 
century  caused  the  great  war  which  raged  from  1789 
to  18 1 5.  There  ensued  a  brief  reaction,  but  it  was 
liberty  of  thought  and  speech  which  underlay  also 
the  movements  of  1832,  1848,  and  1861.  With  the 
emancipation  of  colored  bondsmen  in  America  the 
world  prepared  to  emancipate  all  bondsmen:  black, 
red,  brown,  yellow,  and  white.  For  half  a  century 
it  had  no  other  serious  occupation. 

This  is  advisedly  said,  because,  while  there  has 
been  tremendous  earnestness  in  commerce  and  trade; 
in  the  expansion  of  education  and  in  the  cultivation 
of  the  fine  arts,  what  was  broadly  called  humani- 
tarianism  has  been  the  one  concern  of  the  reformer 
class,  a  mighty  host  of  determined  persons  in  every 
walk  of  life,  giving  lavishly,  some  of  their  time; 
many,  both  of  their  time  and  money.  The  ameliora- 
tion of  living  conditions  in  regard  to  wages,  health, 
housing,  education,  and  direct  control  in  politics,  is 
the  substance  of  what  justly  styles  itself  progressive, 
in  domestic  affairs ;  in  foreign  relations,  the  one  over- 
mastering passion  of  humanitarians,  ill-advised  but 
progressive  too,  is  to  impose  on  every  people,  what- 
ever the  stage  of  its  civilization,  the  institutions,  laws, 
and  forms  of  government,  which,  with  clearer  enlight- 
enment, they  have  devised  for  themselves.  With 
what  results?  The  so-called  republics  of  backward 
civilization  exhibit  their  sorry  plight  to  dismayed 
and  overhasty  worshippers  of  humanity:  even  Ger- 
many has  had  a  lesson  to  teach,  as  to  how  far  the 
institutions  of  people  in  one  stage  of  civilization  and 


THE  PASSING  AGE  IN  POLITICS  5 


development  may  prove  a  disastrous  misfit  for  those 
in  another.  In  the  crisis  of  revolution  there  is  al- 
ways an  importunate  demand  for  foreign  interven- 
tion from  those  who  otherwise  are  the  very  staflF 
and  bread  of  life  in  politics,  the  steady  middle  class; 
while  reckless  criminals  murder  and  steal  under  gov- 
ernmental forms.  To  use  the  word  government  for 
blood-stained  anarchy  and  radical  chaos  is  a  prof- 
anation of  terms.  If  human  beasts  are  more  numer- 
ous than  men,  there  is  no  remedy  in  foreign  inter- 
vention, no  remedy  except  complete  exhaustion  and 
a  political  order  based  on  fear.  On  the  other  hand, 
such  is  the  brotherhood  and  intimate  relation  of  na- 
tions with  each  other,  there  can  no  longer  be  a  ques- 
tion of  the  right  of  intervention  by  orderly  states  for 
the  preservation  of  their  very  existence.  The  world 
looked  on  with  approval  when  we  intervened  in  Cuba 
to  root  out  the  sources  of  the  yellow  fever  scourge; 
it  will  approve  more  heartily  when  we  intervene, 
according  to  our  ability,  in  any  foreign  land  for  the 
removal  of  a  moral  scourge,  the  infectious  source  of 
every  outrage  in  spiritual  as  well  as  physical  life. 

Red  radicalism  is  a  minus  quantity  in  politics,  the 
negation  of  law  and  order ;  this  is  true  simply  because 
there  is  no  social  union  of  a  permanent,  orderly  kind 
without  the  enforcement  of  the  ten  commandments, 
either  by  moral  or  legal  sanction:  duty  to  God  and 
duty  to  man.  Purely  destructive  socialism  in  all  its 
forms,  especially  that  of  extreme  Marxism,  the  mi- 
nority rule  of  the  proletariat,  creates  desolation  and 
knows  no  peace  except  that  of  the  desert.  The  only 
humanity  which  can  live  at  all  under  such  conditions 
is  brutish;  its  units  are  fiends  fighting  for  food, 
shelter,  and  existence.  At  the  other  extreme,  that  of 
autocracy,  as  we  call  it,  brute  force  is  at  least  trans- 
muted into  an  outward  appearance  of  order,  under 
which  large  numbers,  the  overwhelming  majority, 


6       THE  PASSING  AGE  IN  POLITICS 

lead  lives  approximately  human.  In  the  matter  of 
oppression  and  despotism,  the  horrors  of  rapine, 
murder,  and  theft  are  distinctly  worse,  and  indeed 
are  sure  to  be,  under  red  radicalism  than  under  so- 
called  autocracy.  The  word  autocracy  is  convenient, 
but  pure  autocracy  never  was  and  never  can  be. 
One  autocrat  can,  of  course,  reign  over  a  large  num- 
ber of  fellow  human  beings,  but  only  by  their  implied 
assent,  if  not  by  their  formal  consent.  Oppression 
may  be  imagined,  and  it  may  be  real ;  but  no  govern- 
ment is  very  oppressive  when  the  reaction  against  it 
is  so  unimportant  as  not  to  be  efficient  in  working 
some  sort  of  change  or  reform.  History  and  litera- 
ture have  this  in  common,  that  to  tell  everything  is 
to  tell  nothing:  clarity  demands  exclusion  of  the 
unimportant,  and  clarity  is  truth,  as  Descartes  said. 
Moreover,  in  a  similar  way  to  think  definitely  is  to 
will;  and  where  there  is  no  adequate  expression  of 
the  will  in  action  there  is  no  practical  will,  and  no 
thought  in  concrete  form.  Autocracy  exists  just  so 
long  as  the  public  will  is  either  dormant  or  else  ex- 
hausts itself  in  talk;  and  no  longer.  The  nineteenth 
century  and  this  have  professed  liberty,  freedom, 
and  democracy.  The  scant  majority  has  had  some 
thoughts  and  some  will  in  a  true  sense,  putting  both 
liberty  and  equality  into  action,  and  attaining  some 
measure  of  its  thought  and  will.  But  such  is  man, 
and  such  are  men,  that  apparently  those  who  reach 
leadership  really  believe  in  none  of  these  things 
toward  which  they  lead.  What,  apparently,  they  do 
believe  in,  is  their  own  leadership  and  the  infallibility 
of  their  own  unassisted  judgment.  Power  intoxi- 
cates, and  the  fine  talk  of  self-styled  democratic 
leaders  eventuates  before  we  know  it  in  an  autocracy 
which,  though  temporary,  is  for  its  duration  just  as 
dangerous  as  the  more  permanent  monarchical  type. 
The  influence  of  achievement  and  personality  in 


THE  PASSING  AGE  IN  POLITICS  7 


human  affairs  cannot  be  eliminated:  the  mass  of 
men  desire  their  thinking  to  be  done  for  them  and 
long  for  leadership,  while  the  leader  of  the  demos, 
the  demagogue  in  the  best  sense  of  the  word,  delights 
in  power  and  its  exercise,  not  so  much  for  results  as 
for  the  joy  of  self-importance. 

Whether  or  not  we  have  the  correct  designation 
for  the  world  war  of  1914-1918,  when  we  style  it 
the  "Great  War,"  remains  to  be  seen.  "Great"  in 
moral  purpose  and  physical  measurements,  beyond 
a  doubt.  But  "great"  in  results?  This  is  still  un- 
certain, and  it  seems  imperative  that  history  should 
examine  its  goods,  taking  stock  of  what  it  must 
retain,  and  what  it  is  equally  bound  to  work  off  on 
the  bargain  counter  or  to  discard.  The  pages  which 
follow  are  an  essay  in  this  direction.  The  passing 
age  has  considered  democracy  as  the  panacea  for 
political  and  social  evil,  as  having  taken  a  long  stride 
forward,  and  as  having  partially  at  least  solved  the 
acuter  problems  of  human  association.  We  would 
do  well  to  ask  ourselves  what  has  been  the  evolution 
of  democracy;  what  is  its  meaning,  and  what  are  its 
limits.  The  peoples  of  modern  and  contemporary 
history  have  considered  the  nation  as  the  complete 
organ  of  human  society  under  every  form  of  govern- 
ment: monarchy,  autocratic  and  limited;  aristocracy 
or  oligarchy;  republicanism  or  democracy.  Social- 
ism and  anarchy  have  now  arisen  to  condemn  the 
nation  as  the  sum  of  all  iniquities,  and  democracy 
as  empiricism.  The  genesis,  form,  character,  and 
achievement  of  the  nation  are  matters  of  vital  im- 
portance to  all  who  wish  to  think  constructively 
about  present  and  future,  and  not  be  stampeded  by 
the  wild  fury  of  mere  verbiage  as  glib,  fluent  agi- 
tators, bad  and  good,  squander  words  to  the  obscura- 
tion of  ideas.  Professedly  all  civilized  peoples  long 
for  peace.    Peace  is  the  goal  toward  which,  as  we 


8       THE  PASSING  AGE  IN  POLITICS 


convince  ourselves,  we  press  forward  by  means  of 
family,  church,  and  state:  by  the  democratic  nation 
in  its  elaborate  form,  including  and  perfecting  all 
these.  Actually,  however,  men  demand  peace  with 
very  radical  modifications:  peace  with  plenty;  peace 
with  honor;  peace  with  safety,  or  at  least  security, 
within  and  without  national  borders.  About  no 
questions  are  most  of  us  quite  as  ignorant  as  about 
the  facts  and  duration  of  peace  in  history,  nor  the 
conditions  of  peace,  nor  the  enforcement  of  peace, 
nor  the  sacrifices  necessary  for  both  social  and  politi- 
cal peace.  It  may  be  well  to  consider  the  relations 
of  all  these  matters.  The  radicals  want  no  nation- 
ality, and  no  peace  in  the  present  sense  of  the  word: 
the  conservative  democrats  want  a  league  of  nations 
to  formulate  terms  of  peace,  and  create,  if  moral 
sanction  fails,  an  international  police  force  as  a  physi- 
cal sanction.  Every  member  of  the  league  must 
eventually  make  the  supreme  national  sacrifice, 
namely,  a  portion  of  national  sovereignty.  To  se- 
cure peace  in  this  way  both  democracy  and  the  na- 
tion, as  it  now  is,  must  be  ready  for  immense  sacrifice 
both  in  theory  and  in  practice:  of  theoretical  sover- 
eignty and  practical  equality. 

One  of  the  terrible  results  of  the  war  has  been  the 
try-out  of  anarchistic  and  socialistic  doctrine  in 
actual  practice,  with  all  its  shocking  and  futile  de- 
struction of  life  and  property.  It  is  not  at  all  un- 
likely that  posterity  will  discover  the  mad  leaders 
of  the  mad  to  have  been  subsidized  by  other  social 
classes,  both  in  Russia  and  in  Germany,  for  the  pur- 
pose of  evading  obligations  connected  with  the  public 
debt  and  national  reparation  due  for  national  out- 
rage. Stable  government  implies  an  organized  na- 
tion, so  far  a  person  as  to  assume  duties  and  meet 
obligations.  A  long  period  of  squandering  and  waste 
may  be  pleaded  in  mitigation  of  penalties.  Should 


THE  PASSING  AGE  IN  POLITICS  9 

property  owners  under  existing  systems  really  use 
such  a  pretext  for  shirking,  and  strive  to  evade  pay- 
ment of  penalties  incurred  within  and  without  by 
war;  and  should  they  have  any  measure  of  success 
in  such  a  subterfuge,  then  the  next  phase  of  the  na- 
tion must  be  entirely  different  from  the  present  one: 
the  new  age  will  see  a  nation  to  which  all  moral 
quality  is  denied  in  international  arrangements. 
Municipal  law  already  takes  cognizance  of  flabby 
personal  and  corporate  morality  by  providing  a  sys- 
tem of  collateral  deposits  and  guarantees;  interna- 
tional law  will  have  to  enlarge  what  it  already  does 
in  a  like  way,  that  of  occupations  and  seizure  of  na- 
tional assets.  It  may  have  to  control  every  trans- 
action by  collaterals  and  guarantees  deposited  in 
advance  in  ringing  coin.  The  alternative  would  be 
non-existence  for  any  nationality  unable  to  do  so; 
a  nascent  organism  at  best,  crushed  in  embryo  or 
outlawed  if  it  survive  for  a  time.  If  we  strip  the 
nation  of  all  moral  quality,  then  each  aspirant  to 
nationality  must  be  bonded  in  a  great  international 
clearing-house  for  the  performance  of  its  several 
obligations,  bonded  either  in  world  currency  or  its 
equivalent,  antecedent  to  its  recognition  as  a  nation 
by  the  other  unmoral  organisms  called  nations. 

The  globe  is  too  large,  its  inhabitants  are  too 
numerous  and  heterogeneous,  to  be  comprised  in  a 
single  or  even  several  states.  Many  separate  units 
of  rule  there  must  be,  if,  within  each,  the  dwellers 
are  to  enjoy  the  liberty  of  living  according  to  their 
own  traditions,  confession,  institutions,  and  laws. 
And  with  contemporary  notions  about  oppression, 
despotism,  and  autocracy  there  will  have  to  be  a 
far  greater  number  of  such  units  than  ever  before 
in  modern  history,  so  many,  indeed,  that  the  main- 
tenance of  diplomatic  relations  and  the  enforcement 
of  international  legislation  will  preclude  for  a  large 


lo      THE  PASSING  AGE  IN  POLITICS 


class  of  statesmen  any  other  occupation  than  the 
conduct  of  international  affairs.  For  two  hundred 
years  the  civilized  world  found  its  account  in  reduc- 
ing for  its  own  convenience  the  number  of  state 
sovereigns,  until,  with  six  or  eight  so-called  great 
powers,  and  about  twice  as  many  more  minor  ones, 
the  intercourse  of  governments  did  not  revert  to  the 
inane  absurdities  which  passed  for  peace  politics 
among  the  scores  and  scores  of  petty  sovereignties 
immediately  consequent  on  the  disintegration  of  the 
feudal  system.  At  last  the  Congress  of  Vienna,  con- 
firming most  of  Napoleon's  work  in  this  regard, 
totally  destroyed  a  multitude  of  petty  sovereignties, 
nearly  three  hundred.  The  Treaty  of  Versailles,  the 
present  public  charter  of  the  world,  adds  about  thirty 
to  the  number  lately  existing,  and  does  so  in  obedience 
to  the  noisy,  stupid,  clamor  of  semi-civilized  tribes 
and  clans  for  nationality.  Should  the  poison  of  ir- 
redentism  and  pseudo-nationality  be  injected  into 
American  veins  as  into  those  of  half-educated  east- 
Europeans,  the  entire  state-system  of  this  continent, 
north  and  south  of  the  isthmus,  would  disappear  like 
a  wraith.  Peace  among  a  limited  number  of  sizable 
sovereignties  is  thinkable  and  possible,  among  scores 
and  hundreds  the  thought  of  permanent  peace  is  a 
hallucination.  There  is  no  period  of  world-history 
throughout  which  war  was  so  prevalent  as  that 
during  which  the  earth  was  all  apportioned  among 
insignificant  communities. 

There  is  not  much  that  is  new  under  the  sun  in 
matters  of  politics:  but  there  is  no  limit  to  the  num- 
ber of  doctrines  and  dogmas  about  society  and 
property.  For  each  of  these  day-dreams  some  light- 
headed idealist  imagines  a  political  device,  generally 
a  modification  of  a  well-tried  political  structure: 
government  of  all  by  one;  by  the  few;  by  the  mass. 
Like  everything  doctrinaire  the  novelty  of  the  vision 


THE  PASSING  AGE  IN  POLITICS  ii 


consists  in  the  substitution  for  experience  and  con- 
servatism of  theory  and  creduHty.  Folly  wants  a 
chance  to  discredit  wisdom.  It  appears  as  if  at  in- 
tervals there  must  be  periods,  longer  or  shorter,  of 
destructive  chaos  undoing  the  constructive  work  of 
several  generations.  The  recurrence  to  reason  brings 
back  old  and  tried  ways,  with  cautious  leadership  by 
intelligent  men;  and  it  must  be  confessed  that  meas- 
ured by  almost  any  standard,  there  is  in  the  event 
found  to  be  some  improvement.  In  the  interim, 
however,  during  the  period  of  revolution,  such  horror 
and  outrage  will  have  been  perpetrated  as  make  us 
demand  whether  the  gain  is  worth  the  cost;  whether 
there  be  no  better  way  of  advance.  When  for  a 
long  time  every  decency  of  life  has  been  violated, 
and  all  joy  in  living  has  been  quenched,  reconstruc- 
tion is  very  difficult,  and  indeed  often  more  painful 
than  construction  on  a  new  foundation.  But  "Us 
Latins  loves  excitement,"  said  a  negro  office-holder 
at  Port  au  Prince  to  a  visiting  tourist  in  extenuation 
of  his  slatternly  town,  and  the  unedifying  history  of 
his  country.  All  race  stocks  love  excitement;  add 
to  this  the  detestation  felt  by  every  human  being  for 
dulness  and  boredom  in  his  home;  and  then  throw 
into  the  caldron  of  human  weakness  and  depravity, 
impiety  with  its  criminal  zeal  for  idleness,  theft,  and 
murder;  what  a  witch's  brew!  Yet  just  such  a 
caldron  was  stewing  and  blobbing  with  no  conceal- 
ment throughout  a  great  part  of  Europe  for  more 
than  a  year,  while  the  apostles  of  such  criminal  in- 
sanity were  permitted  in  the  name  of  free  speech 
to  lead  astray  the  imbecile  of  all  lands,  and  incite 
them  to  similar  disorder  and  frenzy. 

To  the  present  writer  it  seems  imperative  that 
readers  and  thinkers  take  into  consideration,  and 
that  most  carefully,  the  democratic  nation  as  we  have 
formed  it,  and  kept  it  at  work  during  peace  and  war. 


12      THE  PASSING  AGE  IN  POLITICS 


How  well  is  it  fitted  for  its  approaching  struggle?  a 
strangle-hold,  life-and-death  struggle,  with  what  is 
called  socialism,  a  euphemism  for  the  four  horsemen 
of  the  Apocalypse  going  forth  to  destroy,  at  least  in 
its  logical  development,  the  entire  fabric  of  society 
as  we  and  our  forefathers  have  constructed  it  on  the 
basis  of  church,  state,  and  family.  As  generally 
employed  the  word  socialism  is  useful  to  connote  the 
middle  term  between  humanitarianism  and  savagery. 
Those  who  profess  socialism  have  always  been  di- 
vided into  factions,  each  numerous  and  all  of  them 
diverse  from  each  other  in  their  belief  and  behavior. 
Among  them  is  neither  union  nor  harmony.  The  in- 
vestigating wayfarer  has  to  pick  his  steps  warily 
amidst  their  noisy  contentions.  The  former  ruling 
classes  of  central  and  eastern  Europe  made  a  dismal 
failure  of  government,  and  carried  their  respective 
monarchies  over  the  brink  of  ruin :  the  various  states 
have  been  demoralized  as  well  as  disorganized.  In 
the  crash  of  defeat  and  the  overthrow  of  monarchy 
the  ill-fed,  ill-clad,  and  often  shelterless  masses,  sore 
and  sorry  in  their  acute  suffering,  both  physical  and 
mental,  followed  the  first  guides  who  offered.  These 
were,  of  course,  the  socialistic  adventurers,  with  every- 
thing to  gain  and  nothing  to  lose,  who  rushed  madly 
to  seize  the  reins  of  government,  alike  in  Russia,  in 
Germany,  in  Austria,  and  in  Hungary.  They  be- 
haved exactly  as,  in  every  revolutionary  crisis,  in 
every  land,  in  every  age,  the  radical  innovators  and 
destroyers  before  them  had  done.  And  the  same  fate 
overtook  them.  Their  unbridled  excesses  were  their 
undoing,  and  the  support  even  of  the  proletariat 
departed  from  them.  The  attempted  exercise  of 
power  produced  dissension,  and  three  groups  emerged, 
all  socialists  in  their  antagonism  to  capital,  and  de- 
votion to  the  co-operation  of  production,  as  they 
call  it,  but  in  varying  degrees  lukewarm  or  hostile 


THE  PASSING  AGE  IN  POLITICS  13 


to  democracy  and  majority  rule.  They  are  quite 
unable  to  agree  and  act  together,  and  of  course  are 
totally  at  odds  with  the  anarch-despots  who  seize 
and  hold  authority  by  no  other  means  than  force, 
having,  despite  smooth  words,  no  other  goal  than  the 
gratification  of  their  own  lusts  and  passions.  Their 
profession  is  one  thing,  their  conduct  quite  another. 
Idleness  and  want  they  create  wilfully,  because  these 
are  the  ablest  coadjutors  for  the  foul  selfishness  of 
the  few  besotted  leaders  in  the  blood-red  terrorism 
which  does  to  death  thousands  upon  thousands,  not 
only  of  innocent  bystanders,  but  of  themselves. 
Most  of  the  once  industrious  and  well-to-do  have 
found  safety  in  flight,  but  in  the  fulness  of  time  will 
return  to  create  and  perpetuate  orderly  government 
of  some  form. 

In  order  to  find  any  meaning  in  the  three  or  four 
leading  tenets  or  symbols  of  socialism,  it  must  be 
remembered  that  "progressive  democracy"  long  since 
divorced  itself  from  the  least -government  theory  of 
our  liberty-loving  ancestors.  To  lay  out  and  follow 
policies  is  not  the  American  way.  With  no  clear  idea 
of  its  line  our  democracy  has  gone  onward  to  foster 
and  institute  state-control  of  substantially  all  our 
public  utilities,  even  those  fostered  and  supported 
throughout  infancy  by  private  capital.  What  with 
extortionate  taxes  and  the  lavish  appropriation  of 
the  taxpayer's  money  for  education  and  charity, 
together  with  the  accompanying  inquiry  into  the 
private  affairs  of  every  citizen,  male  and  female,  on 
the  plea  of  securing  data  for  heavy  taxation,  the  ad- 
vance of  what  called  itself  progressive,  humanitarian 
democracy  had  permeated  private  life  and  "social- 
ized" every  nation  to  a  degree  of  which  not  even  a 
faint  conception  could  have  been  formed  two  gen- 
erations earlier.  But  socialism  of  the  Marxian  type 
added  much  to  this  enforced  humanitarianism  or 


14      THE  PASSING  AGE  IN  POLITICS 


state  socialism.  Accepting  the  specious  but  utterly 
false  interpretation  of  all  history  as  the  record  ex- 
clusively of  class  struggle  which  Marx  had  foisted 
upon  his  readers,  the  socialists  of  his  brand  consider 
the  nation  to  be  a  dangerous  anachronism;  because 
at  every  crisis  patriotism  seduces  the  proletariat  from 
union  with  its  fellows  of  other  nations  to  wrest  from 
the  middle  class,  the  burghers,  what  belongs  to  the 
workman:  viz.,  the  means  of  manufacture  and  dis- 
tribution, which  is  Capital.  Since  this  fallacy  is  best 
considered  in  another  connection,  we  note  it  here 
simply  to  show  the  radical  difference  between  state 
socialism,  which  expends  the  money  of  the  few  for 
the  benefit  of  the  many,  and  pure  socialism,  which 
would  appropriate  all  the  money  of  everybody  in 
order  to  level  up  disability  and  level  down  ability; 
to  turn  everybody  into  children  of  Gibeon,  hewers  of 
wood  and  drawers  of  water,  into  menials;  whether 
endowed  with  the  soul  of  a  clodhopper  or  with  the 
genius  of  a  Shakespeare. 

Of  socialists  there  are,  as  just  remarked,  many 
categories;  almost  as  many  as  there  are  individual 
professors  of  the  cult:  for  cult,  in  a  semi-religious 
sense,  socialism  pretends  to  be;  the  one  and  only 
gospel  of  humanity.  Yet  there  are  three  classes, 
vaguely  to  be  distinguished.  There  are  first  those  of 
a  fairly  mild  type  who  claim  to  be  and  accordingly 
style  themselves,  the  majority  socialists.  They  con- 
sider themselves  democrats  of  a  somewhat  radical 
sort,  but  still  democrats,  admitting  that  in  the  con- 
duct of  affairs  the  majority  must  rule.  So  likewise 
do  the  minority,  or  independent,  socialists,  though 
on  the  question  of  majority  rule  they  are  far  from 
emphatic,  rather  lukewarm,  in  fact.  They  verge 
toward  fanaticism,  and  seem  willing  to  seize  power 
without  much  reference  to  the  will  of  the  majority. 
The  third  sort  of  socialists  are  avowedly  ultra-radical ; 


THE  PASSING  AGE  IN  POLITICS  15 


preaching  and  practising  the  revolutionary  over- 
throw of  society  by  any  means,  with  a  view  to  turn- 
ing a  minority  into  a  majority  by  distrust,  fear,  and 
shock.  Incidentally  the  ample  incomes  of  their  oli- 
garchy are  derived  from  the  most  dictatorial  and 
illiberal  party  organization  so  far  devised.  By  every 
member  relatively  high  dues  are  paid  into  a  fund 
controlled  by  demagogues  so  vociferous  as  to  draw 
the  attention  of  contributors  away  entirely  from  the 
management  of  the  large  sums  thus  accumulated. 
There  seems  to  be  no  accounting  either  to  the  public 
or  to  the  membership.  When  dues  are  not  paid, 
delinquents  are  incontinently  expelled  from  the  or- 
ganization, a  procedure  which  appears  to  be  a  modi- 
fied black-listing. 

The  most  important  and  baneful  contribution  of 
Russia  and  her  Slavic  congeners  of  eastern  Europe 
to  present-day  socialistic  anarchy  consists  of  a  chaotic 
despotism,  widely  known  by  their  own  designation: 
Bolshevism,  the  maximal  form  of  a  brutality,  called 
in  its  minimal  and  less  violent  form:  Menshevism. 
Both  are  avowed  assertions  of  a  minority  despotism 
exercised  by  the  proletariat  of  the  towns.  Their 
policy,  as  exhibited  by  practice,  is  to  crush  out  all 
opposition  by  every  wicked  and  vicious  means,  mur- 
der and  robbery  principally.  For  this  butchery  and 
violation  of  humanity  the  brute  leaders  have  a  series 
of  euphemistic  terms  derived  from  politics.  Differ- 
ing but  slightly  in  doctrine,  and  only  in  degree  as  to 
practice,  as  far  as  we  can  understand,  the  distinction 
between  them  is  plain  only  to  those  familiar  with 
the  Russian  mind,  and  immaterial  to  us.  What  is 
interesting  is  their  embittered  strife  with  each  other, 
the  moderates,  if  we  may  so  style  them,  making  a 
poor  show  of  resistance.  The  creed  of  the  extremists 
is  comprehensive  and  exaggerates  the  socialistic,  or 
even  anarchistic,  doctrine  to  horrible  absurdity.  Its 


i6      THE  PASSING  AGE  IN  POLITICS 


points  are  seven  in  number:  (i)  Class  warfare;  (2) 
Nationalization  of  all  land  and  abolition  of  all  private 
property;  (3)  Destruction  of  all  industries  except 
those  essential  to  physical  well-being,  with  the  con- 
sequent shortening  of  labor  hours  to  three  or  four; 
(4)  Internationalism,  through  removing  all  economic 
barriers  and  wiping  out  all  state  boundaries;  (5)  Dis- 
armament; (6)  Government  by  councils  of  the  pro- 
letariat [Soviets];  (7)  Utter  effacement  of  democracy 
so  that  the  proletariat,  whether  in  the  majority  or 
minority,  may  wield  the  supreme  power.  Naturally 
enough,  constituent  assemblies  elected  by  popular 
vote  are  an  abomination  in  the  eyes  of  such  unbal- 
anced monsters. 

Their  hold  on  power  for  more  than  a  year  was  the 
most  frightful  experiment  in  anarchy  so  far  known 
to  history.  Judged  by  their  works  these  wild-eyed, 
ignorant,  noisy  agitators  desired  only  an  orgy  of  self- 
indulgence  in  every  luxurious  vice,  shameless  revelry 
in  the  lowest  forms  of  iniquity,  and  the  enrichment  of 
the  leaders  by  looting  banks  and  gutting  private 
dwellings.  Criminals  without  a  single  redeeming 
quality,  these  monsters  of  infamy  professed  to  be 
the  harbingers  of  a  new  order  on  earth,  of  a  world 
regenerate  and  just.  In  it  there  would  be  no  war, 
because  there  would  be  no  military  on  land  or  sea; 
no  competition  for  markets  or  materials  because 
an  irreducible  minimum  of  production  would  abso- 
lutely preclude  it;  no  colonies  or  imperialism  because 
of  world-wide  local  self-determination,  and  as  a 
corollary  no  patriotism  or  sense  of  nationality. 

Hard  and  forbidding  as  is  the  task,  every  effort 
must  be  put  forth  to  confute  popular  and  spreading 
heresy.  It  seems  essential  that  as  large  a  number 
of  voters  as  possible  should  know  something  of  reality. 
They  must,  if  they  are  to  select  wise  leaders;  in  other 
words,  if  they  are  to  think  concretely  and  vote  sen- 


THE  PASSING  AGE  IN  POLITICS  17 


sibly.  The  past  was  very  real,  so  is  the  present; 
and  some  guidance  for  the  future  must  be  found  if 
we  are  to  avoid  the  disaster  incident  to  following 
political  and  social  phantasms.  High-minded  states- 
men, leaders  and  helmsmen  of  the  modern  state, 
must  in  the  last  resort  fall  back  on  their  own  experi- 
ence, knowledge,  and  instincts,  for  the  framing  of  new 
legislation;  but  they  should  read  their  own  experi- 
ence in  the  light  of  past  experience  by  others  in  order 
to  discern  the  true  meaning  of  present-day  conditions. 
To  trace  democracy  from  its  sources,  and  the  history 
of  the  democratic  nation  from  its  beginnings,  to  know 
what  peace  means,  and  the  conditions  of  peace,  are 
the  necessary  preliminaries  in  any  honest  effort  to 
reform  existing  political  and  social  defects.  An  es- 
say in  that  direction,  no  matter  how  imperfect  it 
may  be,  requires  no  apology. 


I 


THE  DEVELOPMENT  OF  DEMOCRACY 
IN  THOUGHT  AND  ACTION 


I 


democracy:  its  natural  history 

ITS  etymology;  a  good  meaning  for  a  bad  word — AS  AN  ideal;  as  a 

FACT:  BOSS  RULE?  MANY  OPPRESSED  BY  FEW? — AS  A  SOVEREIGNTY; 
SO  SPLINTERED  AS  INTERNAL  THAT  IT  BECOMES  INDISTINGUISHABLE; 
EXTERNAL,  BASED  ON  FORBEARANCE  OF  OTHERS — EXTRAVAGANT  AND 
INEFFICIENT?  GENESIS  OF  THE  STATE;  TWO  DOCTRINES:  SOCIAL  AND 
INDIVIDUAL — BIOLOGISTS  INDIVIDUALISTIC;  PSYCHOLOGISTS  SOCIAL 
— BIOLOGY  AND  ANTHROPOLOGY  NEUTRAL;  PSYCHOLOGY  AND  LIN- 
GUISTICS   SOCIAL — HISTORY    ALSO    SOCIAL;     THE    PRIMITIVE  FAMILY 

STATE;   MAN  A  POLITICAL  ANIMAL  ABNORMAL  EXPANSION  OF  FAMILY; 

GENS,  CLAN,  TRIBE,  CITY,  STATE — MONOGAMIC  FAMILY  THE  CLIMAX; 
PSYCHOLOGIC  EVOLUTION  THE  BOND — FALSE  KEYS  TO  HISTORY.  THE 
STATE  AN  ORGANISM  OF  ORGANISMS — EVERY  STAGE  OF  DEVELOPMENT 

A  STAGE  OF  ADVANCE  BY  INDIVIDUALS  TO  LIBERTY  THE  STRUGGLE 

FOR  INDIVIDUALITY  IS  A  STRUGGLE  FOR  LARGER  PARTICIPATION  IN 

POLITICS  OUR   DEMOCRACY   BASED   ON   THE  CONCEPT   OF  TAXATION 

AS  A  GIFT  AND  ON  THE  CONTRACT  THEORY:  BOTH  FALLACIES — LIBERTY 
IMPOSSIBLE  WITHOUT  THE  STATE. 

No  teacher  has  been  able  to  escape  the  importunate 
and  reiterated  questioning  of  inquirers  about  the 
meaning  of  democracy.  The  war  gave  new  passion 
to  the  discussion.  No  government  without  the  con- 
sent of  the  governed:  what  does  that  mean?  The 
world  safe  for  democracy:  what  does  that  mean? 
No  dealings  with  governments  unsupported  by  their 
peoples:  what  does  that  mean?  These  are  very 
pertinent  questions,  and  it  is  the  business  of  some- 
body to  answer  them.  And  to  each  of  them  there  is 
a  sane  and  sensible  answer;  a  reply  pregnant  with 
meaning  to  every  American.  Not  that  there  are 
definitions  in  categorical  form.  There  are  not.  It 
is  said  that  there  are  but  three  actual  definitions 
in  all  the  Bible;  in  this,  the  gospel  of  humanity  re- 
sembles the  gospel  of  grace.  Both  are  states  of  mind 
adapting  a  principle  to  successive  states  of  society. 
To  approach  a  definition  of  democracy  we  must  lo- 

21 


22 


DEMOCRACY: 


cate  its  embryo  in  the  distant  past;  after  the  genesis 
comes  the  evolution,  step  by  step,  until  to-day  the 
spirit  of  democracy  is  three-fold:  we  feel  equality, 
we  want  fraternity,  and  we  demand  a  possible  liberty. 

Look  up  the  word  in  the  earliest  English  diction- 
ary, that  of  1623,  and  then  throughout  the  succession 
of  some  sixteen  important  English  dictionaries  pub- 
lished since  that  day.  Is  the  evolution  of  meaning 
even  measurably  satisfactory?  No,  vagueness  char- 
acterizes each  and  all  of  the  definitions;  the  word  on 
everybody's  lips  to-day  has  quite  another  significance 
from  any  which  it  has  had  before,  a  significance 
vaguer  than  them  all.  We  are  sorely  put  to  it  when 
we  strive  for  a  definition.  Neither  etymology  nor 
history  helps  us.  It  is  a  Greek  word,  and  among  the 
Greeks  was  the  opposite  of  politeia,  or  policy,  which 
meant  government  by  the  majority  for  the  benefit 
of  all;  whereas  democratia,  or  democracy,  meant  the 
oppression  of  the  minority  by  the  majority. 

The  rather  vague  notion  of  government  as  existing 
for  the  common  good,  underlay  all  forms  of  organized 
society:  monarchy,  aristocracy,  and  policy,  while 
the  abuse  of  power  was  stigmatized  as  tyranny,  oli- 
garchy, or  democracy.  There  could  be  a  bad  per- 
sonal king,  a  bad  commission  king,  and  a  bad  collec- 
tive king:  kingship  signifying  sovereignty  or  supreme 
authority,  however  and  wherever  lodged.  From  these 
basic  propositions  present-day  thought  in  no  way 
dissents.  We  postulate  sovereignty  or  supreme  power 
as  essential  to  order,  legal  or  moral;  and  to  the  re- 
public or  common  weal.  We  do  not  in  principle  ad- 
mit its  exercise  either  by  one,  or  the  few,  or  the  major- 
ity; though  in  fact  we  permit  it  in  all  these  ways. 
We  lay  down  and  emphasize  its  residing  in  the  whole 
people,  its  exercise  by  the  whole  people,  and  for  the 
good  of  the  whole  people.  This  is  our  cherished  ideal 
and  longed-for  goal.    No  sane  man  believes  that  we 


ITS  NATURAL  HISTORY  23 


have  secured  even  a  near  approach  to  it,  and  pessi-" 
mists  assert  that  it  is  ever  receding,  getting  further 
and  further  away.  Indeed  it  seems  to  many  thought- 
ful men  as  if  the  so-called  democracy  of  to-day  were 
an  oligarchy,  the  oppression  of  the  many  by  the  few 
" politocrats "  as  they  have  been  called;  the  profes- 
sional political  advisers  of  the  ignorant  voter;  and 
therefore  the  dispensers  of  "jobs"  or  poHtical  pat- 
ronage. Their  side  partner  is  the  money  power,  our 
scarcely  veiled  plutocracy.  Outsiders  with  perspec- 
tive, British,  French,  and  German,  hold  and  publicly 
proclaim  this  opinion. 

Furthermore,  it  is  speciously  asserted  that  there 
is  no  longer  any  sovereignty  whatever  in  a  full  sense. 
From  habit  and  the  sanction  of  traditional  power 
we  have  some  degree  of  internal  order;  but  as  re- 
gards other  nations,  states,  and  peoples,  we  have  had 
in  peace  time  nothing  wherewith  to  enforce  the 
sovereignty  we  assert,  except  a  shadowy  survival  of 
those  governmental  organs  known  as  an  army  and 
navy.  To  be  sure,  there  is  an  appeal  in  the  name 
of  humanity  to  folkways  and  a  moral  law  for  the 
maintenance  of  our  contentions  as  to  the  conduct 
of  international  relations  in  war  and  peace ;  but  such 
a  sanction  of  sovereignty  has  been  found  rather 
Utopian  than  practical,  and  amounted  to  a  sharing 
of  efficient  sovereignty  with  other  states,  states  which 
saw  morality  from  a  far  different  angle,  and  had 
provided  for  themselves  the  material  means  of  en- 
forcing their  concepts. 

A  sovereignty  based  (at  the  best)  upon  forbear- 
ance and  discussion  will  probably  have  to  find  an- 
other designation.  The  name  in  a  purely  pacific 
sense  would  be  as  completely  transmuted  and  as 
radically  transformed  as  has  been  the  word  "democ- 
racy." Hitherto,  and  at  the  present,  in  most  of  the 
world  "here  below,"  sovereignty  has  had  and  has  a 


24 


DEMOCRACY: 


solid,  concrete,  material  sense  in  the  conduct  of  for- 
eign relations.  It  will  return  inevitably  to  that  given 
sense,  and  that  firm  exercise:  even  in  a  democracy 
which  refuses  to  be  ready  at  the  crisis,  but  intends  to 
get  ready  somehow  or  another  after  the  shame  of 
unreadiness  has  been  endured.  Throughout  history 
a  menaced  democracy  has  in  every  case  installed  for 
this  instant  urgency  a  dictator  of  some  sort.  He 
alone  asserts  by  his  delegated  power  a  complete 
sovereignty. 

Perhaps  the  worst  indictment  of  democracy  as  it 
works  to-day  is  its  blundering  inefficiency  and  in- 
tolerable extravagance.  We  have  long  been  misled, 
and  still  are  to  an  amazing  extent,  by  two  fallacies: 
first,  that  democracy  is  the  simplest  form  of  govern- 
ment; and  secondly,  that  it  is  the  cheapest.  The 
first  of  the  two  is  the  most  glittering  form  of  pro- 
tective coloration  known  to  the  student  of  history; 
no  bird,  for  instance,  is  harder  to  find  amid  the  green 
foliage  than  the  gorgeous  cardinal.  Let  us  briefly 
consider,  first,  the  simplicity:  and  then  count  the 
cost.  There  is  no  more  dignified  nor  thoughtful 
body  of  literature  than  that  which  deals  with  the 
nature  and  genesis  of  nation  and  state.  Consider- 
ing, however,  the  long  centuries  from  the  Greeks 
onward  during  which  the  ablest  minds  have  grappled 
with  the  problem,  and  the  gigantic  efforts  to  secure 
from  the  past  guidance  for  the  present  and  the  future, 
the  results  are  not  of  inspiring  helpfulness.  The 
evolutionary  thought  of  the  present  generation  has 
only  beclouded  the  question  and  landed  us  in  a  per- 
plexing dilemma. 

In  the  effort  to  prove  that  natural  selection  in  any 
form  of  life  sets  up  a  process  of  modification  which 
results  in  a  new  species,  Darwin  employed  a  dualistic 
hypothesis.  The  careful  scrutiny  (by  his  successors) 
of  his  effort  to  solve  the  problem  of  human  origins 


ITS  NATURAL  HISTORY  25 


indicates  that  the  dualistic  hypothesis  is  untenable, 
being  a  confusion  of  two  concepts  mutually  exclusive, 
one  of  the  other:  namely,  that  man  in  his  origins 
"may"  or  "may  not"  have  been  a  social  animal. 
Now  there  is  some  point  at  which  the  development  of 
"the  higher  mental  qualities  such  as  sympathy  and 
love  for  his  fellows"  is  so  complete  as  entirely  to 
separate  man  from  his  animal  origins,  and  so  create 
the  human  family,  whatever  its  form,  as  the  condi- 
tion antecedent  to  historic  man:  to  his  physical 
conception,  his  birth  and  his  protracted  period  of 
nurture.  If  aboriginal  man  "lived  in  small  com- 
munities, each  (male)  with  a  single  wife,  or  if  power- 
ful with  several,  whom  he  jealously  guarded  against 
other  men"  he  would  steadily  have  become  less  so- 
cial and  more  individualistic.  Ferocity,  jealousy,  and 
strength  (the  qualities  Darwin  instances  as  those  of 
the  gorilla)  all  make  for  the  reverse  of  what  is  intel- 
lectual and  social.  To  be  a  social  being,  man,  when 
cut  loose  from  the  animal  pack,  must  have  been  a 
small  and  physically  weak,  but  mentally  shrewd 
organizer  of  collective  power,  in  order  to  create  his 
environment  and  perpetuate  his  species. 

Among  naturalists  there  seems  to  exist  a  feeling 
that  the  two  concepts  can  be  reconciled;  and,  quite 
possibly,  for  men  in  whose  thought  the  concept  of 
time  barely  exists,  there  is  a  debatable  ground.  But 
historians,  particularly  those  who  think  of  politics 
as  a  science,  unanimously  reject  the  possibility  of  an 
origin  for  man,  compounded  of  two  antitheses,  the 
social  and  the  individual.  So  likewise  do  many 
naturalists;  and  the  majority  of  more  recent  biologists 
base  their  thinking  on  the  individualistic  hypothesis; 
but  among  them  also  no  general  decision  has  been 
reached.  The  most  recent  and  erudite  are  all  for 
the  intellectual,  social  origin,  as  also  are  the  psychol- 
ogists, who  reach  the  conclusion  that  the  immediate 


26 


DEMOCRACY: 


progenitors  of  the  "homo  sapiens"  lived  in  com- 
munities, that  communal  life  is  a  condition  precedent 
to  the  genesis  of  the  human  species,  that  indeed,  as 
Aristotle  stated  it,  man  is  a  poHtical  animal.  The 
evidence  from  language  is  possibly  the  strongest  of 
all,  because,  as  anatomists  all  agree,  certain  organs: 
wind-pipe,  lungs,  lips,  palate,  and  nose,  one  and  all 
were  evolved  for  specific  physiological  purposes. 
Speech,  therefore,  the  single  and  only  prerogative  of 
man  as  man,  the  gift  which  leads  to  the  exercise  of 
reason,  is  due  to  an  appropriation  for  its  purpose 
of  already  existing  organs,  and  arose  initially  from 
social  necessity. 

For  the  historian,  familiar  with  devolution  through- 
out his  record,  written  and  unwritten,  it  is  of  poign- 
ant interest  to  note  that  natural  science  in  its  latest 
phase  begins  to  put  determinative  emphasis  on  the 
same  concept.  Why  did  not  apes  become  men? 
asks  our  foremost  authority.*  His  answer  is,  be- 
cause in  the  struggle  for  life  the  ape  lost  its  thumb; 
men  alone  kept  the  human  thumb  in  its  original 
perfection.  Likewise  man  alone  has  retained  the 
primitive  dentition,  and  is  alone  omnivorous;  beasts 
have  lost  that  dentition  in  a  long  devolution,  and 
require  specialized  diet.  Their  habitat  is  limited. 
But  wherever  there  is  protoplasm,  snakes,  lizards, 
insect  larvae,  ants,  roots,  there  primitive  man  finds  a 
living.  Again,  the  human  eye,  foot,  and  hand  are 
primitive  things  which  man  alone  has  retained, 
though  all  have  developed  according  to  the  necessi- 
ties of  a  person  standing  erect.  The  only  possession 
of  mankind  which  has  undergone  continuous  evolu- 
tion is  the  brain  and  nervous  system,  stupendously 
developed  in  comparison  witk  that  of  all  other  mam- 
mals and  vertebrates.    "Man  is  a  mixture  of  charac- 

*  See  Professor  Klaatsch  of  Breslau  in  the  volume  Die  Abstam- 
mungslehre,  p.  340. 


ITS  NATURAL  HISTORY  27 


ters  hoary  in  age  with  others  slowly  perfected,  and 
of  others  newly  acquired."  "Without  the  astound- 
ing combination  of  a  complete  prehensile  hand  with 
the  forward  look  of  the  eyes  the  evolutionary  road  to 
humanity  would  be  barred."  "It  must  have  been 
a  remarkable  chain  of  favorable  conditions  which 
finally  split  off  the  Primates  from  the  Primatoids." 
Such  are  the  phrases  of  the  biologist.  No  one  can 
question  that  such  exceptional  environments  and 
selections  are  a  bulwark  to  the  social  theory.  That 
certain  anthropoids  became  anthropoi — the  "homo 
sapiens"  of  science — when  the  higher  life  was  breathed 
into  their  nostrils,  is  really  the  subject  of  comparative 
mythology.  In  any  scheme  of  the  universe  man  is 
a  social  political  being  with  origins  and  a  develop- 
ment all  his  own— the  great  exception. 

Again,  students  of  man  as  an  animal,  the  anthro- 
pologists, are  divided  in  opinion  as  between  the  two 
hypotheses,  although,  like  Darwin,  they  make  no 
effort  to  blend  them.  Their  procedure  on  the  whole 
has  been  along  individualistic  lines,  and  while  they 
realize  that  savagery  and  barbarism,  so  far  from 
being  the  primitive  status  of  man,  are  the  results 
of  a  long  and  appalling  devolution,  yet  there  is  com- 
pulsion upon  them  all  to  re-state  their  fullest  knowl- 
edge in  accordance  with  the  social  hypothesis.  By 
many,  however,  this  is  done  grudgingly,  because 
there  is  no  link  between  the  "animal  pack"  and 
"human  society,"  however  primitive,  except  the 
very  dubious  interpretation  of  totemism  as  a  "savage 
theory  of  parentage." 

Totemism  prevailed,  and  has  been  studied  within 
a  very  limited  area,  in  northern  America  and  in 
Australia.  The  evidence  afforded  is  not  in  any  case 
sufficient.  Dispassionately  considered,  the  results 
of  biology  and  anthropology  favor  neither  of  the  two 
genetic  theories,  while  those  of  psychology  and 


28 


DEMOCRACY: 


linguistics  distinctly  indicate  a  high  probability  for 
the  value  of  the  social  hypothesis.  We  dare  not 
say  that  evolutionary  thought  and  natural  science 
have  shed  any  clear  light  on  political  origins;  the 
further  question  is:  which  of  the  two  best  fits  the 
interpretation  of  historical  facts?  The  human  na- 
ture known  to  history  was  complete  in  its  present 
form  at  the  dawn  of  history,  and  has  not  perceptibly 
changed  with  changing  environment  throughout  the 
ten  thousand  years  of  its  course. 

It  is  a  physiological  fact  that  man  comes  into  being 
and  enters  on  his  career  through  the  common  life 
of  male  and  female  adults;  it  is  not  disputed  that  the 
long  period  of  nurture  essential  to  the  infant,  a  hun- 
dred times  longer  than  that  essential  to  the  animal, 
cements  community  life  and  prolongs  it  in  some  form 
or  another.  This  communal  life  is,  therefore,  mani- 
festly the  primitive  form  of  the  primitive  state,  which, 
as  Aristotle  said,  is  the  creation  of  nature,  an  entity 
prior  to  the  family  and  the  individual,  since  the 
whole  is  of  necessity  prior  to  the  part.  If  there  be 
a  science  of  politics,  this  is  a  basic  proposition.  It  is 
this  entity  or  organism  which  procreates  the  indi- 
vidual, and  binds  it  to  its  "nidus"  for  a  period  of 
years,  both  granting  and  establishing  what  we  call 
its  rights.  The  rights  of  the  individual  are  doubt- 
less inherent  in  its  own  humanity,  but  the  degree  of 
their  exercise  is  a  grant  from  the  community,  even 
in  its  most  inchoate  form. 

Such  rights,  of  course,  are  primitive  and  embry- 
onic: the  rights  to  life,  to  shelter,  and  to  nurture. 
Steadily  onward  from  the  beginning  of  childhood 
the  community  protects  the  rights,  while  simultane- 
ously it  enforces  the  duties  of  the  individual;  that 
is,  its  own  collective  right  to  obedience  and  assist- 
ance. At  maturity,  duty,  in  return  for  rights,  reaches 
its  maximum,  and  we  feel  that  rights  likewise  are 


ITS  NATURAL  HISTORY  29 


complete.  Thereupon  the  social  group  manumits 
the  individual  as  the  completest  product  of  the  com- 
munity, segregated  to  renew  the  process,  to  found 
a  new  community  and  perpetuate  the  race  by  natural 
generation,  by  nurture,  and  by  training  in  rights 
bestowed,  and  in  duties  enforced.  This  is  no  fanci- 
ful theory,  not  even  a  scientific  hypothesis,  but  a 
fact  of  daily  observation  to  us  as  it  has  been  to  man- 
kind since  the  beginning.  Those  thinkers  who  have 
found  the  origin  of  the  state  in  the  family  have  been 
astray  only  in  the  limitations  they  had  set  on  the 
meaning  of  the  words:  state  and  family;  both  m.ust 
be  used  in  the  broadest  sense. 

We  have  had  historic  examples  of  the  family  in 
the  abnormal  expansion  of  clan  and  tribe,  each 
endeavoring  further  to  expand  itself  into  the  state; 
but  with  a  signal  and  dismal  failure.  China,  for 
example,  was  and  remains  a  swollen  patriarchy, 
spreading  a  paternal  authority  and  care  suitable  for 
tens  of  units  over  tens  of  millions.  The  ancient  world 
of  Greece  and  Italy  created  the  marvellous  city- 
state,  the  development  of  which,  however,  at  a  cer- 
tain point  was  suddenly  arrested.  Beyond  it,  was  no 
organic  growth.  The  attempted  empire  of  Athens 
was  a  short  and  sorry  experiment,  that  of  Rome  was 
a  scandalous  tyranny  of  imposing  dimension,  but  un- 
stable equilibrium,  maintained  by  force.  Far  up 
beyond  the  animal  pack,  the  totem  group,  the  poly- 
andric  horde,  the  polygamous  family,  the  city-state 
or  "polls,"  lies  the  highest  of  all  human  achieve- 
ments, the  most  sacred  of  all  human  institutions,  the 
palladium  of  the  higher  life,  to  wit  the  monogamic 
family.  This  is  the  very  obverse  of  all  its  antecedents. 
So  far  in  the  history  of  thought  no  sane  biologist, 
reasoning  in  terms  of  evolution,  has  claimed  that  any 
process  of  nature  can  be  explained  in  terms  of  pre- 
ceding ones.    There  is  no  nexus  binding  life  with 


30 


DEMOCRACY: 


physics  and  chemistry,  although  both  have  been 
studied  as  ancillary  and  essential;  how  can  the  com- 
munity between  organic  function  and  consciousness 
be  established,  although  the  one  is  unthinkable  with- 
out the  other?  Accordingly  as  far  as  the  environ- 
ment of  a  state,  the  "permanent  and  universal 
frame"  of  human  existence  is  admitted  as  essential 
to  the  monogamous  family  life  of  civilization,  we  are 
forced  to  conclude  either  that  there  are  chasms  be- 
tween the  levels  of  social  life,  or  else  that  the  unity 
of  the  whole,  nebulous  but  real,  must  be  found  in 
the  continuous  human  "psyche"  or  soul,  in  psy- 
chological evolution. 

To  discover  this  requires  an  elect  mind  which 
ruthlessly  distinguishes  between  being  and  seeming; 
appearance  and  fact.  Scientists  are  perpetually  an- 
nouncing the  discovery  of  a  key  to  history — the  key 
of  natural  generation  and  selection,  the  common 
origin  expressed  in  birth,  blood,  language,  in  the  na- 
tion; or  the  key  of  conquest  and  military  force;  or 
the  key  of  religious  catholicity,  that  of  the  common 
faith  and  recognized  supernatural  authority;  or  the 
key  of  national  boundaries  and  physical  geography; 
or  the  key  of  analogy  between  a  single  man  and 
mankind.  Such  errors  are  nothing  but  a  false  em- 
phasis. Every  heresy  is  a  truth  distorted  by  uneven 
pressure.  The  truth  about  the  state  appears  to  be 
that  it  existed  from  the  beginning  of  man  in  every 
form  of  association  from  the  primitive  and  animal 
throughout  the  evolution  of  humanity  to  the  most 
complicated  form  of  organization.  The  state  is 
indeed  an  organism,  but  not  at  all  in  the  sense  of 
that  term  as  employed  by  natural  science.  Com- 
posed of  persons,  each  a  complete  individual,  it  is 
like  a  business  trust,  an  organism  of  organisms.  In 
the  humanities  organism  is  on  one  side  more  com- 
plex than  in  natural  science,  as  man  is  the  climax  of 


ITS  NATURAL  HISTORY  31 


mammalian  life;  but  on  the  other  it  is  vastly  more 
simple,  as  its  parts  are  more  unitary  and  individual, 
as  its  behavior  is  determined  by  fewer  laws  and 
rules.  Modified  for  the  occasion,  as  these  imposed 
conditions  are  by  the  ethical  choice  of  the  conscious, 
responsible  parts,  there  can  be  no  question  of  a  re- 
morseless, immutable,  natural  so-called  law,  which 
is  not  law  at  all  but  uniformity.  Human  laws  are 
common  resolves  for  the  common  good,  and  the  or- 
ganism they  control  has  little  or  no  resemblance  to 
the  organism  of  natural  law. 

Yet  there  is  natural  law  in  the  spiritual  world, 
exactly  as  the  combination  lock  of  history  requires 
for  its  opening  every  one  of  the  keys  above  enumer- 
ated, each  of  which  corresponds  to  some  one  tumbler 
in  the  combination.  There  are  features  of  common 
origin,  belief,  advantage,  institutions,  environment, 
and  so  on  in  every  human  aggregation  from  the 
Punaluan  horde  to  the  most  advanced  state.  But 
the  proportions  are  vastly  different.  Kinship  and 
low  instinct  control  in  one;  an  intelligent  general 
will  in  the  other.  But  at  this  hour  of  our  high-water 
mark  in  national  government,  as  emphasizing  a  com- 
mon good  and  the  common  will  of  the  nation,  we  find 
the  machinery  clogged  and  gritty  because  of  over- 
emphasis on  blood  and  kinship,  because  of  greed  and 
mercantilism,  of  superstition  and  intolerance,  of 
class-consciousness  and  ignorant  prejudice.  Are  the 
states  of  Europe  any  the  less  advanced  states  be- 
cause in  war  they  exhibit  a  demoniac  possession  of 
self-interest,  of  hate,  of  reckless  inhumanity?  Yet 
these  later  qualities  were  those  overwhelmingly  in 
evidence  throughout  all  primitive  consociation,  in 
the  period  when  the  socius,  the  bond,  the  tie,  was  a 
fetter,  and  could  be  ruptured  only  by  guile  or  by 
defiant  strength;  never  by  the  common  consent. 
It  is  the  latest  and  most  wonderful  achievement  of 


32  DEMOCRACY: 

civilization  that  a  man  may  move  freely  about,  go 
almost  wherever  he  chooses,  and  settle  wherever  he 
pleases,  and  yet  secure  a  citizenship.  Once  every 
stranger  was  an  enemy;  now  at  least  he  is  not  so  in 
theory  and  in  privilege;  although  dark  suspicion  and 
class  exclusiveness  still  eclipse  for  him  the  full  light 
of  the  social  sun.  War  is  a  reversion  to  primitive 
barbarity,  to  hate  and  murder;  we  talk  of  "civilized" 
war,  meaning  not  the  mitigation  of  its  horrors  by 
general  arrangement  as  we  fondly  thought,  but  only 
that  civilization  has  temporarily  reverted  to  savagery, 
employing  in  it  all  the  gains  of  civilization  for  the 
purposes  of  barbarism. 

The  science  of  man  and  nature  seems  from  all 
these  considerations  to  be  harmonious  in  positing 
the  social  hypothesis.  The  community  was  the  con- 
dition antecedent  to  the  production  of  even  the 
earliest  man ;  to  man  in  every  degree  of  development 
the  state  is  what  water  is  to  the  fish.  To  the  bota- 
nist there  is  no  weed,  to  the  entomologist  no  vermin, 
to  the  historian  no  unclean  community.  Every 
human  group  is  a  human  organism,  unique  in  its 
creation  of  the  general  habit  styled  an  institution, 
of  government,  and  finally  of  the  individual  man. 
All  are  derivatives  of  the  state  which  creates  and  re- 
jects species,  of  itself,  by  readjustment  of  structure. 
By  discarding  the  useless  it  creates  its  own  series, 
each  one  of  which  produces  a  type  that  interacts  as 
an  environment  upon  the  vanishing  and  coming  in- 
dividual. The  struggle  for  individuality  is  just  the 
opposite  of  what  it  is  generally  supposed  to  be.  It 
is  the  effort  at  larger  participation  in  the  general 
life,  for  an  ascent  to  the  higher  or  highest  life  by  the 
use  of  institutions  primarily  advantageous  not  to 
one  but  to  all.  To  be  restrained  from  self-realization 
or  happiness  is  not  slavery  but  liberty,  which  is  the 
enjoyment  of  order;    not  the  license  of  self-will. 


ITS  NATURAL  HISTORY  33 


Rights  are  not  innate  nor  inherent,  but  transmitted, 
a  gift  of  society  sternly  coupled  with  duties.  A  per- 
fect man  is  unthinkable  without  a  perfect  state.  No 
legal  right  can  be  asserted  without  its  pre-existence 
as  a  moral  right;  which  is  merely  what  we  can  secure 
without  the  sanction  of  force  by  the  sanction  of 
general  approval.  Perpetual  agitation  is  the  price  of 
freedom,  because  through  it  base  personal  instincts 
are  restrained  by  publicity;  a  fancied  individual 
right  is  proven  to  be  a  wrong  to  others;  and  so  from 
the  general  unsavory  ingredients  of  the  vat  emerges, 
through  steaming  and  boiling  and  brewing,  the  pure 
political  and  social  product  which  we  call  liberty, 
the  easy  performance  of  hard  duty  for  the  sake  of 
that  degree  of  order  without  which  there  can  be  no 
individuality. 

It  was  the  social  order  of  our  stock  which  enabled 
the  elder  Pitt  to  assert  in  1765  that  while,  according 
to  the  Declaratory  Act,  parliament,  the  state,  was 
supreme  and  sovereign,  legislation  and  taxation  were 
utterly  different  from  each  other,  the  latter  being  a 
free  gift  from  the  individual  to  the  community,  and 
compulsory  only  by  the  consent  given  personally  or 
through  a  representative.  The  American  colonists 
accepted  the  Declaratory  Act  without  a  murmur 
when  the  Stamp  Act  was  repealed.  This  doctrine  of 
taxation,  together  with  the  contract  theory  of  govern- 
ment as  valid  only  by  the  consent  of  the  governed, 
were  the  two  bulwarks  of  liberty.  Both  are  now 
treated  with  contempt  by  purely  legal  minds,  but 
they  do  not  contravene  in  any  degree  the  positions 
we  have  stated.  The  individual  being  the  product 
of  the  state,  must  be  at  every  moment  in  contact 
with  it,  and  so  of  necessity  react  upon  it  in  all  its 
functions.  Otherwise  stagnation  and  the  weak  ac- 
ceptance of  authority  as  expounded  by  functionaries 
would  result,  and  progress  be  arrested.  Legality 


34 


DEMOCRACY: 


is  the  foe  of  equity,  and  without  equity  there  can 
be  no  advance.  At  every  instant  fearless  vigilance 
and  resistance  to  authority,  or  custom,  or  tradition 
are  essential  to  both  the  patriot  and  the  statesman. 
Such  a  line  of  conduct  has  all  the  appearance  of  the 
individual  antagonizing  the  very  state  which  indi- 
viduals by  contract  or  otherwise  have  set  up  for  their 
common  benefit;  the  reality  is  that  the  state,  which 
furnishes  to  the  individual  the  medium  of  his  life, 
requires  an  ever  diminishing  or  increasing  tension  in 
exact  proportion  to  the  wants  of  each  unit  as  he 
advances  or  recedes  in  personal  capacity.  Appear- 
ance and  reality  are  antipodal.  With  an  advanced 
state  the  person  may  exercise  the  right  of  choice  and 
take  the  consequences;  with  a  retarded  or  jeopardized 
state,  the  whole  must  wrest  the  necessities  of  its  life 
from  persons,  however  unwilling.  It  was  to  serve 
the  state  that  the  Americans  of  the  eighteenth  cen- 
tury treated  the  Loyalists  so  harshly,  even  to  a  de- 
gree of  injustice  and  faithlessness  which  our  morality 
cannot  condone.  The  state  organism,  when  exist- 
ence is  endangered,  ruthlessly  asserts  a  morality 
which  can  never  be  that  of  the  individual  organism. 

Here  ends  the  first  division  of  our  discussion.  We 
proceed  to  the  next  from  the  rock  of  conviction  that 
liberty  is  conceivable  only  within  the  organized 
state  under  folkways  or  institutions  which  eventuate 
in  government,  and  in  laws  both  moral  and  positive. 
Democracy  was  not  the  first  word  in  civilization; 
that  word  was,  as  it  continues  to  be,  property.  But 
there  was  at  the  beginning,  an  embyro  of  democracy 
which  at  each  stage  of  evolution  shows  new  develop- 
ment. Exactly  as  property  began  in  communism 
and  emancipates  itself  continuously  therefrom,  so 
democracy  in  the  sense  of  individual  self-restraint, 
personal  rights  and  imperative  duties  detaches  itself 
more  and  more  from  the  family  state,  the  city-state, 


ITS  NATURAL  HISTORY  35 


the  tyranny  state,  the  feudal  state,  and  the  mon- 
archical state.  Its  system  and  method  of  govern- 
ment have  yet  to  be  found;  and  in  this  experiment 
the  world  of  to-day  is  occupied.  Europe  tried  con- 
stitutional monarchy,  representative  government,  and 
oligarchical  republicanism;  we  have  tried  the  presi- 
dential republic,  and  evolved  a  system  which  to  a 
large  minority,  perhaps  a  small  majority,  seems  out- 
worn. In  many  disappointments  we  have  learned 
that  democracy  is  a  most  complex  and  perplexing 
system  of  government,  probably  the  final  word  in  an 
effort  to  give  not  only  every  adult,  but  every  minor, 
a  share  in  sovereignty;  in  an  agony,  so  to  speak,  of 
human  perfectibility  on  earth,  it  hopes  to  secure  the 
equalizing  of  individuals,  not  only  in  rights  and 
duties,  but  in  social  perfections  of  discipline,  man- 
ners, and  property.  We  were  not  thus  procreated 
nor  born  into  human  life,  but  we  pursue  the  high 
ideal.  The  rainbow  of  hope  is  set  in  the  heavens, 
and  we  seek  its  foot  to  climb  from  thence  along  the 
shining  arch.  "In  reality,"  Pushkin  is  reported  to 
have  said,  "inequality  is  the  law  of  nature."  So 
far  apparent  equality  has  been  "in  reality"  the  in- 
dividual will  subtly  controlling  the  many. 


II 


DEMOCRACY  IN  HISTORY 

BEGINNINGS  IN  EGYPT  AND  CHALDEA  EXHIBIT  PROPERTY  AS  THE  COR- 
NERSTONE   OF    PERSONAL    LIBERTY — THE    EMBRYO    OF  DEMOCRACY 

AMONG  THE  FREEMEN.     RISE  OF  TYRANNY  CONTRIBUTIONS  OF  THE 

CITY-STATE  TO  DEMOCRACY.     THE  PRINCIPLES  FIRST  OF  UNIVERSAL, 

SECOND  OF  NATURAL,   RIGHT  THE    STOICS    AND    INHERENT  RIGHTS. 

THE  JUS  GENTIUM — ONE  PERMANENT  GAIN,  THAT  LAWS  DREW  VALIDITY 
FROM  THE  POPULAR  WILL,  i.  e.  OF  THE  FREEMEN  AND  MILITARY  CLASS 
 FUTILITY  OF  POLITICAL  THEORY  IN  THE  ANCIENT  WORLD  NO  LIB- 
ERTY  OR   FREEDOM    IN   REALITY;     BUT   POTENT   CONCEPTS   AND  DIM 

VISIONS  OF  IT  CHRISTIANITY  INTRODUCES  THE  RIGHT  OF  CHOICE  AS 

BASIC  TO  SPIRITUAL  LIFE.  DUTY  TO  GOD  AND  NEIGHBOR — THE  WORLD 
OF  STATUS  TURNED  UPSIDE  DOWN — THE  TEACHING  OF  AUGUSTINE — 
OF  GRATIAN  AND  AQUINAS — MARSILIUS  OF  PADUA;  POPULAR  SOVER- 
EIGNTY IN  CHURCH  AND  STATE — THE  REFORMATION  AND  THE  RIGHT 
OF  PRIVATE  JUDGMENT — THE  INFLUENCE  OF  CALVIN  ON  DEMOCRACY. 

The  written  history  of  the  earliest  civilizations,  ac- 
cording to  the  discoveries  of  historical  archaeology, 
begins  about  eight  thousand  years  before  our  era. 
The  only  really  historical  civilizations  of  the  earliest 
period  are  those  in  the  river  valley  of  the  Nile,  and 
in  the  double  valley  of  the  Tigris  and  Euphrates; 
these  two  were  based  on  the  divine  origin  of  govern- 
ment, and  to  the  commands  of  a  divine  vicegerent 
there  could  be  no  resistance.  The  records  of  the 
earliest  historical  past  are  largely  religious,  and  the 
only  sanction  or  penalty  behind  the  law  was  divine 
authority,  direct  or  representative.  Under  such  a 
despotism  what  we  call  personal  liberty  was  un- 
known, the  concept  was  not  even  inchoate.  Never- 
theless, there  was  a  clear,  sharp-cut  respect  for  prop- 
erty, and  as  the  enormous  masses  of  cuneiform  in- 
scriptions, the  brick  libraries  of  Chaldea,  yield  their 
secrets  to  expert  scholars,  we  are  almost  stupefied  by 
the  written  conveyances,  mortgages,  and  legal  guar- 

36 


DEMOCRACY  IN  HISTORY  37 


antecs  which  safeguarded  real  estate.  They  resem- 
ble our  own  so  closely  as  to  exhibit  what  little  ad- 
vance in  such  respects  our  proud  civilization  has 
made.  Now  the  sacredness  of  property  in  any  form 
is  the  foundation  stone  of  personal  liberty.  We 
vaguely  discern,  therefore,  that  behind  the  theocratic 
rule  was  some  incipient  feeling  of  equality  permeating 
both  the  agricultural  and  mercantile  elements  in 
the  population.  It  would  be,  of  course,  an  equality 
of  status,  neither  regarding  nor  proposing  any  ques- 
tion of  personal  consent  or  contract  between  men  as 
men.  To  this  there  was  only  a  single  exception,  the 
contract  between  king  and  people  among  the  tur- 
bulent Jews.  In  the  great  imperial  aggregations 
person  and  property,  life  and  liberty,  law  and  no 
law,  were  absolutely  at  the  mercy  of  the  arbitrary 
omnipotent  ruler. 

If  it  would  be  an  abuse  of  the  word  to  speak  of 
democracy  in  connection  with  the  early  empires, 
purely  theocratic  in  principle,  and  largely  military 
in  fact — even  in  India  and  China — it  is  almost  equally 
absurd  to  speak  of  the  city-state,  the  other  primitive 
political  unit,  as  democratic,  a  temptation  to  which 
many  impulsive  writers  yield.  It  was  in  the  city- 
states,  however,  that  the  embryo  of  democracy  was, 
or  is,  just  discernible.  There  were  many  of  them 
along  the  shores  of  the  Levant,  in  Arabia,  likewise  in 
primitive  Greece  and  Italy.  In  their  fully  developed, 
historic  form  we  know  them  fairly  well,  and  there  is 
one  monumental  study  of  them  which  is  convincing 
by  its  clearness.*  The  transition  from  Orient  to 
Occident  in  the  spheres  of  politics,  society,  science, 
and  art  was  their  doing.  They  had  elective  execu- 
tives, popular  legislation  and  administration,  and  a 
definite  conception  of  inherited  rights  with  corre- 
sponding duties,  sternly  enforced  by  a  collective, 
*  Fustel  de  Coulanges:  La  Cite  Antique. 


38  DEMOCRACY  IN  HISTORY 


secular  sovereignty.  Each,  however,  had  its  local 
god,  a  god  of  terror  exacting  a  crushing  burden  of 
property  and  life.  To  the  latest  hour  of  their  exist- 
ence there  was  in  and  about  them  a  large  number 
of  foreign  clients  and  slaves,  with  no  rights  except 
granted  privilege.  They  had  no  share  in  the  govern- 
ment, and  were  as  completely  at  the  mercy  of  tyranny 
as  the  abject  subjects  of  the  great  empires.  There 
is  no  conception  of  democracy  which  could  style 
such  an  exclusive  political  system  democratic. 

Yet  there  was  for  the  favored  many,  the  freemen, 
a  high  degree  of  personal  liberty.  Their  earliest  or- 
ganization was  both  monarchical  and  theocratic. 
The  city-states  of  the  Shemites  never  destroyed,  al- 
though they  modified,  the  tripartite  division  of  sover- 
eignty. But  the  city-states  of  Europe  first  destroyed 
the  political  headships  of  their  kings,  leaving  to 
them  only  the  priesthood.  This  left  the  sovereignty 
resident  partly  in  the  heads  of  families  constituting 
a  senate,  and  partly  in  all  the  freemen,  hereditary  or 
adopted,  as  the  assembly.  Of  representation  there 
was  no  trace:  sovereignty  not  exercised  in  person 
was  lost.  The  final  levelling  stage  was  to  strip  the 
elders  of  power  and  entrust  every  function  of  the 
state  to  the  assembled  citizens.  With  the  growth  of 
these  city-states  in  wealth  and  power  the  aggregation 
of  outsiders  was  enormous,  while  the  administration 
of  both  external  and  internal  affairs,  during  war  and 
peace,  became  of  course  more  and  more  complicated. 
Citizens  were  compelled  to  give  more  and  more  time 
to  public  affairs;  in  the  case  of  many  no  leisure  for 
private  affairs  was  left,  and  the  "body  politic"  had 
itself  paid  from  the  public  treasury.  In  many  of 
the  most  important  states  the  burden  grew  so  in- 
tolerable, and  the  returns  to  the  individuals  so  slen- 
der that  from  out  the  seleqtive  oligarchies  of  generals 
and  professional  politicians  there  emerged  some  one 


DEMOCRACY  IN  HISTORY  39 


man,  who  either  seized  or  had  yielded  to  him  with 
gladness,  the  reins  of  absolute  power.  This  was 
considered  an  illegal  but  necessary  expedient,  and 
was  styled  not  a  monarchy,  but  a  tyranny.  The 
word  did  not  connote  oppression  necessarily,  for 
initially  there  were  more  good  than  bad  tyrants; 
it  was  employed  in  our  sense  at  a  later  date.  The 
personal  liberty  of  the  favored  classes  knew  no  other 
restraint  than  their  own  happy  submission  to  the 
bondage  of  government.  Such  citizens  were,  however, 
not  democrats  as  we  use  the  word. 

Many  hold  that  after  the  stage  of  tyranny  in  the 
city-states  there  followed  a  final  one,  that  of  democ- 
racy. Doubtless,  at  the  time,  men  used  the  word 
to  indicate  an  illegal  polity,  exactly  as  tyranny  had 
indicated  an  illegal  monarchy.  But  that  is  no 
reason  why  we  should  continue  to  use  our  present 
word  in  an  antiquated  sense.  Greece  and  Rome 
never  knew  our  democracy.  Their  politics  excluded 
from  participation  in  government  a  more  numerous 
population  than  was  included;  there  was  barely  a 
suspicion  of  "consent"  among  citizens,  and  numbers 
were  relatively  so  few  that  every  male  must  be  pres- 
ent to  legislate  or  administer,  or  else  be  a  cipher* 
There  was  no  thought  of  sending  a  proxy  for  one  or 
many  to  do  the  thinking,  debating,  and  voting  for 
others,  an  ingenious  invention  of  necessity  whenever 
and  wherever  territory  and  population  exceed  the 
bounds  of  a  few  miles  and  a  few  thousand  people. 
Even  a  stentor,  reinforced  by  a  megaphone,  can 
command  the  attention  of  but  a  few  thousand  listen- 
ers, and  that  in  a  hall  of  miraculous  acoustics.  The 
more  freemen  the  fewer  active  politicians  propor- 
tionately. What  the  city-states  contributed  to  the 
history  of  democracy  was  the  partial  emancipation 
of  thought,  and  a  transformation  in  the  conception 
of  law:  the  work  of  the  free-thinkers,  from  the  fifth 


40  DEMOCRACY  IN  HISTORY 


century  before  our  era  onward  to  the  close  of  their 
epoch.  It  was  Heraclitus  (460  B.  C.)  who  pro- 
claimed that  in  a  universe  of  perpetual  flux  there 
was  an  underlying  common  reason,  a  divine  or 
natural  law.  The  Sophists  went  further  and  dis- 
tinguished between  natural  law,  and  positive,  or  the 
varying  arbitrary  commands  of  those  in  authority. 
The  natural  right  under  natural  law  was,  therefore, 
only  an  embryo.  To  this  natural  law  Socrates, 
Plato,  and  Aristotle  refer  as  a  commonplace,  but  not 
one  of  them  emphasizes  it.  Aristotle  commends 
Antigone  in  her  determination  to  bury  Polynices  in 
defiance  of  royal  command,  on  the  ground  of  the  un- 
written law  of  natural  right ;  and  in  several  other  pas- 
sages he  refers  to  universal  perpetual  principles  of 
right.  It  was  when  the  city-state  system  was  crum- 
bling that  the  Stoics  appeared  and  elaborated  the 
principle  of  natural  rights — a  substitution  for  the 
particular  laws  of  separate  states — the  doctrine  of  a 
general  law  of  the  world. 

The  Roman  system  of  government  was  the  arbi- 
trary rule  by  a  single  city-state  of  all  the  rest:  in 
Italy,  Greece,  and  around  the  Mediterranean,  with 
such  adjacent  lands  as  they  could  conquer,  hold,  and 
administer.  Roman  thinkers  and  jurisconsults  were, 
for  the  most  part,  of  the  Stoic  persuasion.  Seneca 
taught  brotherhood  and  equality  among  all  men, 
including  foreigners  and  slaves.  This  sweeping,  revo- 
lutionary, and  democratic  doctrine  caught  the  ear 
of  many,  and  partially  colored  the  stream  of  Roman 
jurisprudence.  Cicero  had  already  taken  the  Stoic 
view,  and  declared  the  jus  naturale  or  jus  natures  as 
the  inherent,  not  inherited,  basis  of  personal  right  in 
man.  Indeed  he  actually  caught  a  glimpse  of  what 
we  call  conscience;  the  complement  of  such  a  revela- 
tion to  man  of  God,  Nature,  or  Reason,  was  the  duty 
of  further  knowledge,  until  the  sage,  in  full  possession 


DEMOCRACY  IN  HISTORY  41 


of  natural  law,  converts  it  into  positive  law.  At 
least  in  part.  Were  the  two  to  be  identical  the 
positive  law  of  Rome,  the  famous  Twelve  Tables, 
would  need  no  adaptation  to  the  peregrini,  or  for- 
eigners with  whom  Rome  was  in  closest  contact. 
As  it  was,  the  special  praetor  had  to  adjust  the  Roman 
conscience  to  theirs  in  successive  edicts,  finally  cod- 
ified into  a  perpetual  one.  This  was  the  jus  gen- 
tium, akin  to  natural  law;  but,  being  a  sort  of  digest 
from  foreign  law,  it  was  a  cause  of  friction,  a  neces- 
sary evil.  It  took  long  to  fuse  the  two  into  a  single 
theory:  but  it  happened,  and  the  separatist  pride  of 
Rome  was  so  far  diminished  as  to  disregard  in  Roman 
codes  the  distinctions  of  race  and  local  patriotism 
within  the  empire,  as  to  accept  laws  very  general  in 
their  application,  and,  so,  as  to  ameliorate  the  con- 
ditions of  slavery.  There  was  but  a  single  differ- 
ence between  the  school  of  Ulpian  and  that  of  Gaius. 
Both  accepted  natural  law  and  rights  completely: 
both  held  that  men  are  born  free,  but  the  former 
claimed  its  validity  for  animals  and  the  animal  in- 
stinct in  man,  as  well  as  for  men  no  longer  brutish. 
Inasmuch  as  the  edicts  of  the  prcetor  peregrinus  were 
the  basis  of  equity,  its  principles  came  likewise  in 
time  to  be  based  on  the  doctrine  of  natural  law. 
Moral  law  is  what  society  deems  good  for  itself,  and 
by  agitation  within  a  state  moral  becomes  positive 
law,  with  the  treble  sanction  of  opinion,  custom, 
and  force:  natural  law  is  the  universal  law  based 
on  reason. 

The  question  now  arises:  How  far  the  democratic 
state  of  mind  was  promoted  by  such  doctrines  and 
their  application  to  politics  ?  The  answer  is  that  there 
was  one  single  permanent  result.  The  Twelve  Tables 
declared  that  what  the  people  ordain  is  in  the  last 
instance  law.  "This  is  the  condition  of  a  free  peo- 
ple, and  especially  of  this  chief  people,  the  lord  and 


42  DEMOCRACY  IN  HISTORY 


conqueror  of  all  nations,  to  be  able  to  give  or  take 
away  by  their  votes  whatever  they  see  fit,"  said 
Cicero.  Laws  were  announced  in  the  name  of  the 
people,  and  their  validity  was  based  on  the  fact 
that  the  people  had  delegated  their  sovereign  power 
to  the  executive.  This  was  called  the  Lex  Regia, 
which  constituted  the  imperium.  Here  emerges  def- 
initely what  both  Sophists  and  Aristotle  had  suggested, 
the  contract  between  rulers  and  ruled,  the  consent 
of  the  governed.  We  remark,  of  course,  that  the 
"people"  were  still  and  ever  throughout  antiquity 
the  ruling  class  of  freemen  and  military  chiefs. 

Almost  without  exception,  what  we  call  political 
theory  has  been  throughout  the  ages  the  effort  of 
the  sage  to  secure  an  intellectual  basis  for  existing 
facts:  to  support  and  strengthen  a  contemporary 
form  of  government.  The  one  possible  exception 
was  the  convulsion  at  the  close  of  the  eighteenth 
century,  when  theory  preceded  the  upheaval,  and  an 
utterly  futile  attempt  was  made  to  create  a  set  of 
conditions  not  founded  in  history  and  experience. 
Throughout  the  ancient  period  theory  lagged  far 
behind  fact,  and  exerted  no  decisive  influence  on 
personal  liberty:  the  world  was  collectivist,  and  the 
state,  however  constituted  and  however  explained, 
was  omnipotent.  Rulers  and  philosophers  invented 
the  idea  of  contract,  which  implied  a  non-existent 
personal  liberty  and  a  democratic  sovereignty.  But 
the  continuity  of  social  supremacy  in  a  political  form 
over  the  individual  freedom  of  action  among  the 
people  was  unbroken. 

The  one  advance  was  in  the  familiarity  of  intel- 
lectual men  with  concepts  which  were  prophetic 
echoes,  Utopian  unrealities.  Of  democracy  as  a 
working  system  there  was  no  trace  in  civilized  lands, 
outside  of  insignificant  communities  and  the  lowest 
stratum  of  society,  considered  by  wealth,  culture,  and 


DEMOCRACY  IN  HISTORY  43 


intellectual  power.  There  was  no  truth  of  fact, 
possibly  a  truth  of  vision  there  was.  Shelley's  lines 
on  Liberty  and  the  Acropolis  of  Athens,  which  run: 
"that  hill  which  was  thine  earliest  throne  and  latest 
oracle,"  continue  to  thrill  but  they  no  longer  con- 
vince. That  all  men  are  brothers,  that  equal  oppor- 
tunity is  each  man's  due,  and  that  there  is  no  restraint 
on  individual  choice  except  duty  to  God  and  duty 
to  neighbor,  came — these  principles  came  into  the 
thought  of  the  world  in  the  fulness  of  time  through 
two  channels,  the  widening  rill  of  individualism 
opened  by  the  commingling  of  Teuton  and  Roman; 
and,  above  all,  by  the  teachings  of  Christ. 

With  the  advent  and  spread  of  Christianity  the 
ancient  world  of  status  was  turned  upside  down. 
As  long  as  men  went  to  the  letter,  and  absorbed  the 
spirit  of  Bible  teaching,  before  the  fell  influences  of 
feudalism  produced  a  hierarchical  and  political  ecclesi- 
asticism,  there  could  be  and  was  no  question  as  to  the 
individual's  right  of  choice,  the  freedom  of  his  will 
in  controlling  his  actions.  Even  when  the  church 
became  encrusted  with  secular  habit  there  still  re- 
mained in  it  so  much  of  democracy  as  to  preserve  a 
form  of  election  and  make  its  highest  office  accessi- 
ble to  the  lowest  born.  Taking  the  mediaeval  thought 
as  a  whole,  discarding  the  surface  variations,  and  the 
doctrines  of  sectaries,  it  emphasizes  the  right  of 
private  judgment,  determined  by  natural  law  re- 
vealed through  conscience  as  the  supreme  reason, 
eternal  and  immutable. 

Complementary  to  this  teaching  of  Augustine  is 
that  of  Gratian  in  his  Decretum  (of  the  Canon  Law), 
and  in  particular  of  Aquinas.  God  creates  and  rules 
the  universe  under  an  eternal  law,  of  which  a  por- 
tion known  to  finite  man  is  natural  law,  the  divine 
light;  particular  portions  of  this  furnish  by  deduc- 
tion the  human  law.    The  complete  divine  law  is 


44  DEMOCRACY  IN  HISTORY 

revealed  in  the  Scriptures.  Virtue  is  obedience  to 
natural  law :  regarding  self-protection  and  self-preser- 
vation; regarding  the  perpetuation  of  the  race  and 
the  nurture  of  offspring;  and  regarding  the  highest 
good  as  shown  by  reason ;  man's  religious,  social,  and 
disciplinary  duties.  Whatever  government  requires 
the  contrary,  is  a  tyranny.  To  the  ruler  is  assigned 
the  common  welfare  in  secular  matters:  to  the  pope 
as  God's  infallible  vicegerent  the  absolute  authority 
in  spiritual  matters.  There  cannot  be  a  bad  pope 
as  pope,  but  there  can  be  a  bad  king,  and  since  the 
common  good  is  the  criterion  the  subjects  can  claim 
a  breach  of  contract  and  remove  their  ruler.  By 
preference  a  monarchist,  he  nevertheless  sets  the 
king  beneath  the  law,  and  inferentially  points  to 
popular  sovereignty.  In  mediseval  doctrine  there  is 
precious  little  about  personal  liberty,  but  there  are 
the  seeds  of  democracy.  The  ideals  of  early  mediaeval 
Catholicism  were  dualistic;  a  democratic,  all-embrac- 
ing secular  empire,  an  all-embracing  religious  abso- 
lutism. 

Of  course  such  thought,  when  applied  in  action, 
revealed  at  once  the  incompatibility  of  limited  secular 
authority,  and  unlimited  ecclesiastical  sovereignty 

If  there  were  popular  sovereignty  in  the  state  there 
must  be  in  the  church;  Marsilius  of  Padua  and  his 
school  (1325)  seemed  to  go  the  whole  way,  they  are 
startlingly  modern.  All  men  are  equal,  and  obedience 
to  laws  made  by  the  people  through  a  majority  is 
obedience  to  oneself;  rulers  have  no  choice  but  to 
obey  the  people.  This  is  exactly  as  true  in  church 
as  in  state.  Congregations  shall  choose  their  priests, 
the  members  of  ecclesiastical  councils  shall  also  be 
elected  by  the  people,  the  papal  power  rests  upon 
popular  consent.  This  plain  statement  was  enor- 
mously influential  for  at  least  two  centuries,  although 
the  secular  power  was  just  as  reactionary  as  the 


DEMOCRACY  IN  HISTORY  45 


ecclesiastical,  and  there  were  no  results  until  the  seven- 
teenth and  eighteenth  centuries  produced  a  society 
transformed  by  the  Protestant  Reformation  through- 
out the  north  of  Europe,  and  by  scepticism  all  over 
the  south. 

The  revolt  against  ecclesiastical  tyranny  was,  on 
one  side,  assertion  of  the  right  of  private  judgment 
in  religion,  and  substituted  for  a  church  claiming 
infallibility  an  infallible  book,  containing  the  divine 
law.  On  its  Lutheran  side  it  retained  a  maximum  of 
historical  practice,  distrusted  the  peasantry,  and 
strengthened  the  princes.  On  its  Calvinistic  side  it 
discarded  all  for  which  it  could  not  quote  a  "Thus 
saith  the  Lord,"  and  cautiously  gave  indirect  rep- 
resentation to  believers.  The  Anglican  side  was  a 
commingling  of  the  two — the  Protestant  or  Lutheran, 
and  the  Reformed  or  Calvinistic.  Conservatism 
marked  Lutheranism,  progress  Calvinism,  compro- 
mise Anglicanism.  All,  however,  secured  a  measure 
of  democracy  in  connection  with  religious  liberty. 
The  seed  once  sown  produced  the  most  abundant 
harvest  in  Puritanism,  the  pivotal  idea  of  which  is 
the  immediate  relation  of  every  believer  to  God:  no 
intervention  of  priest  or  authoritative  church.  For 
every  evil  the  remedy  is  agitation,  and  if  necessary 
revolution.  Religious  democracy  is  inseparable  from 
secular.  Every  human  relation,  religious  and  sec- 
ular, is  primarily  the  affair  of  the  religious  common- 
wealth, as  indeed  it  was  considered  to  be  by  Roman 
Catholicism  and  Mohammedanism.  Calvin's  sover- 
eign power  is  theocratic,  and  he  was  a  stern  upholder 
of  constituted  authority,  recognizing  no  right  of  re- 
volt except  in  matters  of  conscience,  when  the  objector 
must  take  the  consequences.  He  knows  nothing  of 
popular  sovereignty.  His  ideal  is  a  republic  with 
both  aristocratic  and  democratic  elements,  of  which 
the  Bible  is  the  law,  and  Christ  the  head. 


46  DEMOCRACY  IN  HISTORY: 


Yet  Calvin's  teaching  has  had  more  influence  upon 
the  course  of  history  than  that  of  all  other  reformers, 
many  times  over.  Among  his  followers  were  many 
men  of  many  minds,  but  one  division  of  them,  the 
so-called  Independents,  tracked  his  fierce,  Latin  logic 
to  its  very  extreme.  A  second  Frenchman,  Hotman, 
a  lawyer,  had  stoutly  maintained  the  existence  of  king- 
ship in  all  times  and  places,  but  that,  the  origin  being 
popular  suffrage,  heredity  was  a  parasite  on  king- 
ship, and  was  to  be  sloughed  off;  that  what  the 
people  gave  they  could  recall.  But  expediency  led 
him  to  emphasize  the  value  of  heredity  in  the  choice 
of  Henry  IV  after  the  religious  wars,  exactly  as  the 
heredity  of  Mary  was  in  1688  an  argument  for  the 
choice  of  her  consort  and  herself  as  sovereigns  in 
England.  The  French  mind  likewise  exhibited  itself 
when  learned  Jesuits  emphasized  popular  sovereignty 
in  the  state  to  magnify  divine  right  in  the  papacy,  and 
it  was  another  Frenchman,  Bodin,  who  gave  the 
definition  of  sovereignty  as  supreme  power  resident 
in  the  king,  which  has  ever  since  been  the  point  of 
departure  for  both  legal  and  political  thinking. 
Precision  and  clarity  mark  both  French  and  Latin 
presentation  of  the  elements  which  enter  into  democ- 
racy, but  the  fruits  of  their  thinking  were  not  liberty. 
Henry  IV  founded  the  absolutism  of  the  Bourbons, 
and  Calvin  the  absolutism  of  the  Reformed  churches, 
notably  in  Geneva  and  Scotland,  and  in  the  eastern 
shires  of  England. 


Ill 


DEMOCRACY  IN  HISTORY:  PURITANISM 

THE  PURITAN  REVOLUTION  IN  ENGLAND — THE  RESTORATION  AND  THE  REV- 
OLUTION OF  1688 — PURITAN  REVIVAL  IN  THE  EIGHTEENTH  CENTURY — 
THE  NEW  TORIES  IN  ENGLAND  AND  AMERICA — THE  WHIGS  IN  ENGLAND 
AND  AMERICA — THE  FREE-THINKERS  AND  ROUSSEAU — IDEA  OF  THE 
POPULAR  will;  democracy  AND  PLUTOCRACY— BEGINNING  IN  MOD- 
ERATE CONSERVATISM,  AMERICA  HAS  REACHED  MODERATE  LIBERALISM 
— THE  CHARTERS  IN  AMERICAN  COLONIES— RELIGIOUS  AND  CIVIL  IN- 
EQUALITY— THE  LAWYERS  AND  BILLS  OF  RIGHTS — LIMITATION  OF 
POPULAR  SOVEREIGNTY — FRENCH  DEMOCRACY  AND  ITS  INFLUENCE — 
— THE  HISTORY  OF  DEMOCRACY  THAT  OF  AN  EFFORT  TO  EXPRESS  THE 
POPULAR  WILL  IN  ACTION  WITHOUT  HARM  TO  LIBERTY. 

It  was  the  Puritan  revolution  which  started  modern 
democracy  on  its  way.  When  Cromwell's  Ironsides 
made  victory  over  the  Stuarts  secure,  and  gave  to 
England  a  protector  who  was  not  only  her  own  re- 
lentless sovereign  man,  but  the  most  feared  and 
respected  of  all  the  contemporary  monarchs,  the 
ideas  of  the  Independents  were  triumphant  through- 
out the  British  Isles,  while  the  fruit  of  them  was  an 
international  possession.  It  was  an  awe-inspiring 
fact  that  kings  and  princes  had  to  make  obeisance 
to  Joseph's  sheaf.  The  substance  of  independency 
was  that  every  member  of  every  congregation  shared 
in  its  administration,  and  that  each  congregation 
founded  by  all  the  members  subscribing  a  covenant 
with  God  was  an  independent  democracy.  The 
effort  to  extend  this  system  to  the  state  was  made 
wherever  Calvinists  were  numerous,  and  met,  of 
course,  with  varying  success.  The  extreme  inde- 
pendents, a  handful  organized  by  Robert  Brown, 
proclaimed  complete  separation  of  church  and  state; 
among  other  Calvinists  there  was  a  confusion  of 

47 


48  DEMOCRACY  IN  HISTORY: 

powers,  secular  magistrates  intervening  in  ecclesias- 
tical matters,  and  vice  versa. 

Cromwell's  system  did  not  fit  the  British  people, 
as  is  well  known.  The  revulsion  of  feeling  under 
the  restoration  left  only  vestiges  behind.  Royalty 
and  Episcopacy  resumed  sway  in  England;  royalty 
and  Presbyterianism,  despite  Archbishop  Laud,  per- 
sisted in  Scotland,  and  the  shameful  tale  of  Irish  op- 
pression was  continued  in  a  new  chapter.  Extreme 
Scottish  Covenanters  and  English  Puritans,  who 
could  not  conform  to  the  compromises  essential  to 
the  reintegration  of  the  kingdom,  were  persecuted 
into  exile,  and  by  them  the  American  colonies  became 
the  seed-plot  of  political  democracy.  Many  germs 
of  it  were  left  behind  in  Great  Britain,  but  they  re- 
mained dormant  until  after  the  peaceful  revolution 
of  1688,  which  though  extremely  conservative  on 
one  side,  nevertheless  cleared  the  air  and  prepared 
the  soil  for  a  crop  of  thoughts,  for  a  harvest  of  dis- 
cussions and  experiments  which  resulted  in  the 
ascendancy  of  parliament.  A  succession  of  kings 
far  more  interested  in  continental  than  in  British 
affairs,  once  again  after  an  interval  of  nearly  half  a 
thousand  years  threw  the  interests  of  the  kingdom 
into  the  hands  of  subjects,  and  created  a  system  of 
party  and  parliamentary  government,  very  aristo- 
cratic and  very  corrupt,  which  in  spite  of  limitations 
and  imperfections  led  the  great  and  prosperous 
middle  class  to  ponder  the  doctrines  of  natural  law 
and  rights,  of  sovereignty  as  resident  in  the  people, 
and  of  government  as  based  on  the  consent  of  the 
governed. 

The  Puritan  feeling  for  immediacy  in  the  relations 
of  ruler  and  ruled  began  to  manifest  itself  in  pam- 
phlets, in  the  pulpit,  in  the  news-letters,  and  in  parlia- 
mentary debates.  The  eighteenth  century  was  a 
period  of  yeasty  talk  and  coarse  living,  but  social 


PURITANISM 


49 


conditions  were  favorable  to  freedom  of  speech  and 
political  stock-taking.  In  the  motherland  there  was 
almost  complete  inertia  and  little  result  of  a  political 
theorizing  tending  in  the  main  to  prove  that  what- 
ever is  is  right.  A  pitiful  minority  still  held  to 
the  divine  right  of  kings,  but  the  pulpits  of  the 
established  church  no  longer  rang  with  it.  Religious 
tolerance  had  been  accepted  in  theory,  though  the 
religious  and  social  hierarchies  of  the  three  kingdoms 
relegated  dissenters  to  social  inferiority,  and  at  times 
grew  bold  in  the  revived  exercise  of  administrative 
powers,  which  had  been  slowly  becoming  obsolescent. 
The  political  writings  of  the  Levellers,  demanding  a 
single  representative  house,  meeting  regularly,  and 
elected  by  manhood  suffrage,  and  enacting  a  body 
of  ideal  laws  as  to  the  rights  of  the  citizen,  had  far 
outrun  any  popular  demand,  but  they  were  still 
read  by  a  few.*  Milton's  political  works  were  con- 
stantly perused  by  a  greater  number;  pondering  the 
removal  of  tyrants,  weighing  his  view  of  popular 
sovereignty,  his  love  for  individual  liberty,  and  his 
hatred  of  all  oppression.  From  him  Sidney,  Locke, 
and  Harrington  had  derived  their  ideas  and  their 
inspiration,  and  steadily  the  ruling  political  party, 
the  Whigs,  was  permeated  by  them. 

While  the  growth  of  democracy  in  Great  Britain 
and  in  France  was  the  growth  of  sentiment  rather 
than  of  practical  measures,  the  case  was  quite  differ- 
ent in  America.  It  is  said  that  when  Cromwell  read 
the  programme  of  the  Levellers  he  remarked  that  he 
would  fear  the  disintegration  of  the  realm  were  he 
to  apply  it.  Tradition,  custom,  belief  held  western 
Europe  too  firmly  for  any  high-minded  practical 
statesman  wilfully  to  create  a  chaos,  out  of  which 
new  order  might,  or  might  not,  eventually  be  evolved. 

*  For  Cromwell's  appreciation,  see  Gardiner:  Cromwell's  Place  in  His- 
tory, pp.  40,  41. 


50  DEMOCRACY  IN  HISTORY: 


Among  the  American  colonists  were  many  who  felt 
themselves  essentially  British,  and  whose  aim  was 
rather  the  expansion  of  Britain  than  the  establish- 
ment of  a  new  order.  Their  numbers  were  large  and 
their  influence  very  great,  and  by  the  middle  of  the 
eighteenth  century  they  were  considered  by  them- 
selves and  others  as  American  Tories. 

But  a  very  large  number,  almost  exclusively  Cal- 
vinistic  in  faith,  were  Congregationalists  and  Presby- 
terians, and  of  quite  another  mind.  These  with  rare 
exceptions  were  far  from  enthusiastic  for  the  British 
Government,  often  openly  hostile;  not  only  because 
they  or  their  forbears  had  fled  to  escape  persecution 
or  disabilities,  but  because  the  colonial  system  re- 
garded the  colonists  as  the  servants  of  the  crown 
whose  labors  were  to  expand  British  manufactures 
and  trade  for  the  enrichment  of  the  metropolis. 
Stringent  regulation  of  commerce  and  manufactures 
bore  heavily  upon  their  enjoyment  of  the  liberty 
they  had  crossed  the  seas  to  enjoy.  Not  that  they 
were  entirely  generous  in  yielding  that  liberty  to 
others,  because  they  were  just  as  narrow  in  their 
treatment  of  other  denominations,  and  of  other  ad- 
joining or  neighboring  colonies,  as  the  home  country 
had  been  in  its  treatment  of  them.  In  political  or- 
ganization they  had  followed  their  ecclesiastical  model 
very  closely;  in  political  belief  they  were  Whigs, 
with  a  difference,  since  they  styled  themselves  Ameri- 
can Whigs,  and  even  the  Episcopalians  chafed  under 
the  yoke  of  London  in  the  Bishops  Question,  a  ques- 
tion of  religious  liberty  which  eventually  knitted  them 
closely  to  the  other  denominations  in  the  middle 
and  southern  colonies. 

There  was  also  a  considerable  number  of  free- 
thinkers, disciples  mainly  of  Rousseau,  indifferent  to 
his  basic  absurdities,  but  apostles  in  so  far  as  his 
teaching  aims  to  inculcate  ideas  of  liberty  and  equality. 


PURITANISM 


51 


But  his  liberty  and  his  equaUty  were,  under  his  form 
of  the  contract  theory,  of  short  duration,  for  he  pic- 
tured a  meeting  of  men  surrendering  once  and  for 
all  their  individual  wills  to  a  general  will;  a  will 
which,  once  formed,  was  an  absolute  tyrant,  with 
no  limitation  imposed  thereafter  by  personal  rights 
or  natural  law.  In  the  intense  passion  for  individual 
liberty  which  he  displayed,  and  in  the  corresponding 
enthusiasm  which  he  created,  he  did  make  a  tre- 
mendous contribution  to  the  general  conviction  which 
supported  the  declarations  or  bills  of  human  rights. 
Might,  he  cried,  does  not  create  right  unless  obedi- 
ence be  changed  into  duty.  You  cannot  enslave 
yourself  and  remain  a  man,  for  choice  is  the  basis 
of  morals.  There  is  no  virtue  in  compulsory  good- 
ness. His  ideal  was  pure  democracy,  to  be  sure, 
but  Locke  had  taught  that  men  are  free  and  equal, 
Hobbes  that  absolute  power  was  complete  sover- 
eignty in  the  prince,  however  originating;  and  Rous- 
seau was  an  absolutist  with  sovereignty  resident  in 
a  people  exercising  it  in  popular  assemblies,  meeting 
frequently,  if  not  constantly.  He  neither  explained 
how  such  a  procedure  could  safeguard  individual 
rights,  nor  give  them  any  play  in  a  popular  demo- 
cratic government.  Yet  it  must  be  reiterated  that 
his  American  devotees,  like  those  in  other  lands, 
were  saturated  by  him  with  the  passion  for  a  liberty 
which,  like  him,  they  mistook  for  democracy.  No 
consistent  believer  in  his  social  contract  could  draw 
from  it  a  doctrine  of  personal  rights,  or  a  system  for 
safeguarding  them.  Rousseau's  personal  liberty  was 
like  the  atom  in  the  sand,  a  liberty  of  inertia.  The 
freeman  was  free  because  he  was  theoretically  free; 
free  to  meet  and  jostle,  and  under  physical  influences, 
create  the  law;  but  not  free  to  overthrow  a  system 
which  the  now  inert  unit  had  either  personally  or 
by  proxy  helped  to  create. 


32  DEMOCRACY  IN  HISTORY: 


To  every  student  of  history  it  is  patent  that  the 
community-will,  from  its  most  rudimentary  to  its 
most  elaborate  expression,  has  been  the  foundation 
of  power.  Intermittent  in  its  enforcement,  there 
have  existed  governments  which  professed  to  ignore 
it,  and  have  brought  ruin  and  disaster  to  their  sub- 
jects as  a  result.  In  a  way  the  history  of  democracy 
is  the  history  of  its  organs,  of  an  evolution  in  the 
state  whereby  the  expression  of  the  popular  will 
reached  greater  and  greater  perfection.  It  is  easy 
to  quibble  and  ask  with  a  sneer:  What  is  the  popular 
will?  It  is  impossible  to  answer  adequately  what 
is  a  catch  question  really.  No  man  except  the  ex- 
pert in  the  pathological  laboratory  sees  the  blood  cir- 
culate, but  we  all  know  that  it  does,  and  that  indi- 
vidual life  depends  on  the  fact.  We  all  know  that 
in  the  body  politic  there  is  a  similar  interchange  of 
relations  which  produces  a  resultant  desire  and  will. 
What  we  call  democracy  is  the  state  of  mind  which 
insists  that  this  resultant  want  shall  be  supplied  in 
legislation  and  administration.  To  this  end  the  sole 
and  only  potency  is  majority  or  mass  rule.  It  is  a 
wise  provision  of  Providence  that  to  this  process 
there  are  many  and  active  opposers.  Immemorially 
the  common  welfare  has  been  obstructed  by  selfish 
cliques,  more  or  less  successful  in  appropriating  the 
machinery  of  government  for  their  own  ends.  What 
was,  within  a  generation  or  two,  as  complete  a  democ- 
racy as  any,  that  of  Great  Britain,  is  momentarily 
a  plutocracy  in  large  measure,  and  the  alliances  of 
professional  machine  politicians  in  our  own  republic 
with  the  interests,  lay  us  open  to  the  same  charge. 
Yet  the  plutocracy  has  its  uses;  we  could  not  pos- 
sibly have  found  means  to  assert  our  self-respect 
and  arm  for  self-defense  at  any  time  in  our  history 
without  its  powerful  aid. 

This  short  digression  is  merely  to  illustrate  the 
final  step,  so  far  taken,  in  the  evolution  of  demo- 


PURITANISM 


53 


cratic  rule.  In  Europe  had  been  discussed  and 
elaborated  the  theories  of  natural  law,  of  social  con- 
tract, of  popular  sovereignty,  of  general  suffrage,  and 
of  representation:  and  in  small  communities  the  as- 
sembled freemen  made  and  administered  their  own 
laws;  in  the  larger  there  were  even  acts  of  succession, 
parliamentary  supremacy,  and  from  Magna  Carta 
onward  plain  thinking  and  dealing  about  the  rights 
and  duties  of  man  as  man.  But  in  all  the  older  sys- 
tems, tradition,  custom,  privilege,  and  apathy  pre- 
vented the  triumph  of  anything  approximating  demo- 
cratic government.  In  the  American  colonies  there 
were  present  both  ultra-conservative  and  ultra- 
radical elements;  the  shock  of  conflict  between  them 
was  continuous,  but  the  majority  was  liberal  with 
moderation,  and  the  resultant  was  the  forward  move- 
ment which  speedily  reacted  on  the  revolutionary 
movement  both  in  America,  in  continental  Europe, 
and  finally  in  England.  Progress  of  the  safe  and 
sane  variety  is  always  the  outcome  of  struggle  be- 
tween conflicting  opinions  and  interests.  In  America 
the  liberals  were  sobered  by  it,  the  conservatives 
stung  into  activity.  We  began  in  a  moderate  con- 
servatism, we  have  steadily  advanced  to  a  moderate 
liberalism. 

Religious  dissent  with  its  democratic  temper  made 
our  earliest  contributions  to  political  dissent.  As  a 
result  the  colonies  with  grim  assiduity  secured  char- 
ters which,  after  the  Restoration,  gave  them  local 
legislatures.  In  the  charter  and  proprietary  colonies 
the  local  laws  were  supreme,  but  in  the  crown  colonies 
the  "crown,"  in  commission  to  parliament  as  it  was, 
now  and  then  intervened.  The  Declaratory  Statute 
of  George  III  asserted  that  the  King,  with  the  advice 
and  consent  of  parliament,  "had,  hath,  and  of  right 
ought  to  have,  full  power  and  authority  to  make 
laws  and  statutes  of  sufficient  force  and  validity  to 
bind  the  colonies  and  people  of  America  in  all  cases 


54  DEMOCRACY  IN  HISTORY: 


whatsoever."  To  most  Americans  this  language  was 
hollow  because  the  hateful  stamp  tax  had  just  been 
repealed,  and  they  were  very  busy,  very  prosperous, 
and  indisposed  to  academic  dispute,  for  the  moment. 
Yet  where,  as  Bancroft  describes  it,  there  was  a 
liberal  temper,  no  caste,  no  entail,  no  feudalism,  the 
sense  of  equality  in  social  and  property  conditions 
created,  as  it  has  since  done  throughout  the  younger 
States  of  the  Union,  a  sense  of  equality  unknown 
elsewhere  in  the  world,  social,  economic,  and  political. 

Great  strides  had  been  made  even  in  the  direction 
of  religious  equality.  Equal  among  themselves,  Amer- 
icans felt  no  inferiority  to  the  ruling  class  at  home. 
For  them  it  was  an  absurdity  to  talk  of  dependency. 
Subjects  of  the  crown  they  were,  but  on  an  absolute 
parity  with  all  its  other  subjects,  enjoying  identical 
rights  and  immunities.  These  they  considered  in- 
herited, however,  not  inherent,  a  birthright  of  Eng- 
lishmen. Not  that  prescription  could  supersede  the 
law  of  nature  or  the  divine  law  of  God,  by  a  con- 
junction of  which  the  general  welfare  is  secured. 
Already  attacks  had  been  made  on  the  contract  theory 
of  government,  "as  metaphysical  jargon  and  syste- 
matical nonsense";  but  in  the  main,  as  it  was  con- 
sidered basic  to  the  revolution  of  1688  at  home,  there 
must  be  something  in  it  as  a  basis  for  maintaining 
American  rights  against  the  insidious  assertion  of 
parliamentary  supremacy.  These  rights  were:  to 
personal  security,  to  personal  liberty,  and  to  private 
property,  primarily.  Secondarily,  these  must  be 
buttressed  by  a  constitution,  a  limited  kingship,  an 
impartial  justice,  by  the  right  to  petition,  and  to 
bear  arms.  To  all  eight,  primary  and  secondary,  the 
people  have  an  indisputable,  unalienable,  indefeasible 
divine  right.  The  years  from  1764  onward  saw  great 
numbers  of  learned  and  ingenious  pamphlets  written 
and  published  to  support  this  position. 


PURITANISM 


55 


Such  was  the  ferment  that  the  step  to  the  latest 
evolution  in  democratic  government  was  easily  taken. 
The  colonies  bred  lawyers  and  publicists  in  somewhat 
inordinate  proportion,  and  when  colonial  assemblies, 
legal  or  voluntary,  came  together  the  talk  was  all 
of  rights.  So  when  public  documents  emanated  from 
such  conventions  or  congresses  they  were  primarily 
bills  of  rights,  wherein  such  ideas  were  set  forth  with 
a  clarity,  gravity,  cogency,  and  temperate  expression 
which  fixed  the  attention  of  the  European  world. 
The  successive  declarations  are  not  identical,  however, 
in  asserting  a  basis  of  rights.  The  conservatives 
enumerated  their  grievances  as  Englishmen;  but  the 
true-blue  democrats  believed  in  and  asserted  what 
they  called  the  primordial  foundations  of  government, 
the  law  of  nature  and  natural  rights,  from  which 
spring  popular  sovereignty  and  the  consent  of  the 
governed,  under  a  contract  which  can  be  abrogated. 
This  was  the  accepted  doctrine  at  the  close  of  the 
War  of  Independence.  The  classic  expression  of  the 
American  Constitution,  not  the  federal  pact,  but 
what  underlay  all  the  State  constitutions,  is  in  the 
famous  Virginia  Bill  of  Rights,  adopted  12  June, 
1776.  Its  greatest  novelty  is  the  article  contributed 
by  James  Madison :  That  all  men  are  equally  entitled 
to  the  free  exercise  of  religion,  according  to  the  dic- 
tates of  conscience.  One  and  all,  the  bills  of  rights 
limit  the  sovereignty  of  the  people  in  favor  of  the 
liberty  of  the  individual. 

The  subsequent  history  of  democracy  is  brief  and 
simple,  as  history.  Not  only  subsequent  to,  but  con- 
sequent on,  our  bills  of  rights  (not  petitions  but  decla- 
rations) came  the  reaction  in  Europe,  and  a  resonant, 
bloody  reaction  it  was.  What  the  British  began 
and  we  developed,  the  French  caught  up,  and  with 
the  fiery  intensity  of  passion  awakened  by  Rousseau 
endeavored  to  put  in  practice,  without  regard  either 


56  DEMOCRACY  IN  HISTORY: 


to  the  past  experience  of  human  nature  or  its  ab- 
normal and  warped  texture  at  the  moment.  The 
results  were  awful  license  and  uncontrolled  tyranny, 
the  seizure  of  the  movement  by  military  force  at 
the  hands  of  Napoleon,  and  the  repression  of  its  ex- 
cesses together  with  the  spread  of  its  truths  through- 
out all  Europe.  Absolute  kings  were  awe-stricken, 
and  their  frightened  ministers  managed  to  use  fear 
in  the  maintenance  of  a  long  reaction.  In  1830  came 
the  July  days  when,  in  the  name  of  liberty,  the 
French  plutocracy  expelled  a  divine-right  King,  and 
seized  the  reins  of  power;  in  1832  came  the  first 
English  reform  bill;  the  abortive  days  of  1848  fol- 
lowed on  the  continent,  and  finally  the  consolidating 
wars  which  squarely  divided  Europe  into  free  and 
despotic  governments,  the  latter,  of  course,  tempered 
by  democratic  menace  all  the  while. 

At  first  sight  the  history  of  democracy  throughout 
the  nineteenth  century  seems  an  inextricable  snarl 
and  tangle.  But  it  is  not  really  so.  The  clue  can 
be  found  in  the  different  efforts  of  different  nations 
to  express  in  institutions  the  national  ideas  concern- 
ing the  discovery  and  liberation  into  action  of  the 
popular  will.  In  other  words,  democracy  must  have 
organs  wherewith  first  to  examine  and  discover  its 
precise  will,  what  it  really  wants;  and  secondly,  to 
compel  its  servants,  the  officers  of  the  state,  to  obey 
that  will.  Merely  to  describe  the  democratic  temper 
and  machinery  of  each  state  is  interesting,  but  every 
cataloguing  science  is  rather  a  sport  than  a  discipline, 
and  the  cataloguing  science  of  politics  is  not  even  a 
sport,  it  is  merely  a  pastime.  Hence  we  must  make 
some  effort  at  analysis  and  generalization  in  order 
to  see,  not  how  the  doctrine  of  democracy  may 
further  evolve,  but  whether  we  can  advance  further 
in  its  practical  application.  Every  effort  to  advance 
the  doctrine  will  otherwise  be  futile. 


IV 


DEMOCRACY  IN  HISTORY:  ITS  INSTITUTIONS 

EMBRYONIC  POPULAR  WILL — PERSONAL  CHOICE  IN  THE  VOTE,  POPULAR 

WILL   IN  MAJORITY  EMBRYONIC   ORGANS   OF   THE   POPULAR  WILL  

THEIR  DIFFERENCE  IN  PEACE  AND  WAR  MONEY  COST  OF  EXPRESSING 

POPULAR  WILL  DEMOCRACY  THE  MOST  EXPENSIVE  FORM  OF  GOVERN- 
MENT— PARTY  GOVERNMENT  AND  PROFESSIONAL  POLITICIANS — THE 
DARK  SIDES  OF  NON-REPRESENTATIVE  DEMOCRACIES — EFFORTS  TOWARD 
DIRECT  DEMOCRACY  AND  THE  EXPANSION  OF  THE  SUFFRAGE — RE- 
STRAINTS ON  THE  ABUSE  OF  POPULAR  SOVEREIGNTY — LIMITATIONS  IN 

THE  EXERCISE  OF  SUFFRAGE  CONSTITUTIONS  AND  THEIR  FUNCTION  

DECLARATION  OF  RIGHTS — RELATIONS  OF  MINORITY  AND  MAJORITY. 

Men  are  not  judged  by  their  professions,  but  by 
their  behavior  and  by  their  associations.  This  is 
true  likewise  of  every  human  organization.  Asso- 
ciated man,  Hke  personal  man,  has  organs  through 
which  he  acts.  The  natural  man  expresses  himself, 
however,  by  natural  organs,  while  the  associated  man 
creates  the  method  whereby  he  turns  will  into  action. 
In  creating  the  method  he  also  creates  the  organ. 
There  may  be  inchoate  democracy  in  family,  tribe, 
or  clan,  but  its  will  is  enforced  only  in  so  far  as  it 
acts  on  an  executive  which  it  does  not  select,  or 
resists  an  administration  imposed  by  heredity  or 
custom.  It  is  only  as  the  chief  behaves  from  a  choice 
thus  influenced  that  he  exercises  popular  sovereignty, 
puts  an  embryonic  general  will  into  action. 

In  all  the  historical  democracies  the  personal  will 
was  expressed  by  a  vote  of  some  sort,  and  the  general 
will  by  the  majority  of  such  votes.  To  the  latest 
day  no  other  direct  manifestation  of  the  general  will 
has  been  recognized,  and  majority  rule  even  with 
minority  representation  is  compulsory,  no  matter 
how  slight  the  difference  between  majority  and  mi- 

57 


58  DEMOCRACY  IN  HISTORY: 


nority  may  be.  This  has  gone  so  far  that  even  a 
plurality  is  held  in  many  cases  to  decide,  unless  the 
contrary  has  been  stipulated;  and  repeated  elections 
are  held  to  turn  a  plurality  into  a  majority  when  not 
two  but  several  opinions  divide  the  voters.  The  in- 
teraction of  artificial  organs  on  each  other  and  upon 
the  community  which  uses  them  profoundly  affects 
the  democracy  because  theory  goes  down  before  neces- 
sity. What  ought  to  be  is  the  ideal,  what  can  be 
with  the  material  in  hand  is  the  fact;  they  modify 
each  other. 

It  is  claimed  that  democracy  creates  for  itself 
organs  which  virtually  eclipse  the  creator  itself.  A 
democratic  monarchy  is,  after  all,  a  monarchy,  and 
a  written  democratic  constitution  may  have  so  many 
aristocratic  elements  in  it  that  its  product  will  finally 
be  really  an  aristocracy  and  not  a  democracy  at  all. 
If  democracy  engenders  monarchy  for  a  definite 
purpose  and  a  limited  period,  the  experience  of  suc- 
cess will  diminish  prejudice  against  monarchy,  and 
the  inertia  of  irresponsibility  will  tend  to  minimize 
the  energy  and  zeal  for  return  to  normal  conditions. 
A  democracy  always  in  danger,  and  frequently  at  war, 
loses  its  character  of  jealous  timidity  and  sees  little 
danger  either  in  secret  diplomacy  or  temporary  mili- 
tarism. British  monarchs  reign  by  act  of  settlement 
but  long  use  approves  hereditary  succession  as  the 
easy  way,  and  curiously  enough  the  least  expensive 
way;  and  with  the  hereditary  monarchy  goes  the 
trapping  of  feudal  appanage. 

The  manners  of  pure  democracy  are  the  manners 
of  self-assertion;  they  are  therefore  boisterous  and 
rude  when  men  and  women  are  earnest  and  deter- 
mined. In  times  of  international  peace  the  warfare 
of  faction  and  party  reaches  the  extreme  of  yiolence. 
The  organs  of  democracy  in  war  and  in  peace  must  be 
quite  different,  as  they  always  are.    The  United  States 


ITS  INSTITUTIONS 


59 


at  war  is  barely  recognizable  as  a  democracy;  at 
peace  it  reaches  the  verge  of  anarchy  on  the  part  of 
demagogues.  Parties  announce  the  millennium  in 
their  manifestos;  entrenched  in  power  for  a  term, 
they  violate  every  promise  for  party  reasons  of  state : 
i.  e.,  deeper  to  entrench  themselves  in  power.  Parties, 
if  the  word  be  correctly  defined,  are  an  organ  of 
democracy  created  in  the  interest  of  efficiency.  Like 
their  parent,  they  have  been  of  slow  growth,  but  un- 
like their  parent  they  are  aristocratic  and  monarchi- 
cal, furnishing  the  element  of  leadership  in  an  illegal 
way  which  democracy  refuses  to  engender  legally. 

An  economical  democracy  is  a  contradiction  in 
terms.  The  larger  the  number  who  share  in  gov- 
ernment the  greater  the  cost.  Take  the  single  item 
of  an  election.  As  far  as  I  know  the  one  trust- 
worthy investigation  into  the  cost  was  that  made 
in  1915  by  a  commission  of  public  officials,  aided 
by  a  foremost  metropolitan  journal.  In  spite  of  a 
wide-spread  conviction  to  the  contrary,  it  appeared 
that  bribery  and  corruption  were  reduced  to  a  very 
low  ebb  indeed.  The  result  showed  that  in  19 14 
there  were  spent  by  candidates,  by  committees,  and 
by  the  state,  something  more  than  three  dollars 
each  for  every  vote  cast !  Owing  to  laws  enacted 
within  recent  years,  and  an  elaborate  machinery  to 
enforce  them  so  as  to  secure  honest  elections,  it  is 
probable  that  the  average  elsewhere  in  the  country 
was  no  lower.  So  that  in  every  general  election  the 
cost  to  the  country  as  a  whole  would  be  about  a  hun- 
dred million.  When  the  suffrage  is  extended  to 
women  throughout  the  union  there  will  be  an  increase 
of  about  sixty  per  cent,  so  that  for  the  single  item  of 
securing  a  legal  record  of  the  popular  will  we  have 
the  initial  cost  of  something  over  a  dollar  a  head 
for  man,  woman,  and  child. 

It  was  a  laborious  task,  but  some  time  ago  I  se- 


6o  DEMOCRACY  IN  HISTORY: 


cured  a  census  statement  of  the  combined  expendi- 
tures of  federal,  state,  and  local  governments,  at  a 
time  of  profound  peace,  when  our  military  and  naval 
establishments  were  negligible  in  size,  though  not  in 
cost,  and  the  total  showed  an  average  per  capita  ex- 
penditure as  large  as  that  of  any  European  country; 
with  both  establishments  terrific  in  size  and  effi- 
ciency. The  organs  of  democracy  are  its  frequent  and 
numerous  elections,  its  armies  of  officials,  and  their 
stupendous  cost.  Outside  the  state  entirely,  democ- 
racy exerts  a  moral  pressure  to  which  the  philan- 
thropist yields  gladly,  and  the  most  indurated  pluto- 
crat timidly.  Churches  and  eleemosynary  institu- 
tions, schools,  and  colleges,  public  recreation  and  the 
uplift  movement  generally,  all  of  them  importunate 
beggars,  secure  from  the  private  purses  of  men  and 
women  a  sum  each  year  for  many  years  past,  con- 
servatively estimated  at  three-quarters  of  a  billion. 
Most  of  the  academies  and  learned  societies  in  Eu- 
ropean countries  are  subsidized  by  the  public  purse, 
throughout  our  country  they  rely  on  private  gener- 
osity, and  the  exceptions  which  secure  subsidies  are 
so  rare  as  to  be  negligible.  Is  this  an  indictment 
against  democracy?  Not  at  all.  The  estimate  is 
an  approximation  well  within  the  fact,  but  it  shows 
a  lavish  expenditure  for  admirable  ends.  When 
personally  we  pay  three-eighths  of  our  gross  receipts 
for  the  public  service  under  legal  and  moral  com- 
pulsion, as  we  do,  we  get  full  returns  in  ways  of 
which  we  approve.  But  it  comes  high:  that  fact  we 
must  face.  The  organs  of  democracy  are  few,  its 
instruments  legion;  they  react  on  its  nature,  but  they 
make  the  democratic  state  of  mind  more  determined 
than  it  is  without  them.  Self-denial  is  the  price  of 
liberty;  taking  off  your  coat  and  bestowing  the  cloak 
also. 

Volumes  have  been  written  on  party  government 


ITS  INSTITUTIONS 


6i 


in  America,  and  stern  indictments  have  been  drawn 
against  it  by  competent  grand  juries.  But  what 
substitute  is  proposed  ?  None  which  commends  it- 
self, because  in  any  other  way  we  revert  at  once  to 
oHgarchy  or  tyranny.  Government  by  democracy 
is  very  expensive,  like  most  good  things,  but  govern- 
ment by  oligarchy  or  by  tyranny  is  not  only  ruinous 
in  price,  it  is  ruinous  in  morale.  I  fancy  no  one 
doubts  that  there  is  truth  in  the  charge  that  party 
leaders  of  both  sides  reach  understandings  which  are 
branded  as  corrupt  bargains,  that  they  do  this  in 
order  to  perpetuate  their  power  and  divide  between 
them  the  emoluments  on  which  they  live,  and,  too 
often  alas !  by  which  they  grow  rich  and  accumulate 
ill-gotten  wealth  through  collusion  with  the  plutoc- 
racy. But  democracy  has  no  monopoly  of  corrupt 
politicians.  Quite  the  contrary,  men  who  knew  the 
European  world  were  well  aware  that  every  form  of 
government  lends  itself  to  corruption  on  the  grand 
scale,  and  that  of  all  safeguards  against  it  democratic 
publicity  is  the  best  so  far  discovered. 

Party  government  as  we  know  it,  and  have  known 
it,  is  only  possible  where  power  originates  in  voters, 
creating  by  the  exercise  of  the  ballot  a  body  of  public 
servants  to  make  and  administer  the  law.  From  the 
embryo  to  the  present  adult  form  it  has  busied  itself 
in  two  ways,  the  expansion  of  the  suffrage  and  the 
effort  to  secure  direct,  in  place  of  representative, 
majority  control.  It  matters  little  whether  a  demo- 
cratic state  be  very  large  or  very  small  provided  its 
nature  be  truly  democratic,  and  there  be  no  consider- 
able proportion  of  citizens  with  no  share  in  the  sover- 
eignty. But  the  constitution  of  a  small  democracy 
can  be  very  simple,  and  the  will  of  its  majority  can  not 
only  be  easily  discovered  in  a  public  meeting,  it  can  be 
just  as  easily  expressed  and  enforced.  The  methods 
and  organs  of  such  a  state  are  neither  numerous  nor 


62  DEMOCRACY  IN  HISTORY: 


complex,  and  its  simplicity  may  lead  to  such  temporary 
stagnation,  such  immobility  in  tenure  of  office  and 
in  institutions  as  to  result  in  permanent  stagnation. 
When  men  meet  face  to  face,  friends  and  neighbors, 
it  is  very  difficult  indeed  to  change  officials  or  modify 
the  authority  they  wield.  Town  meetings  in  New 
England  or  in  the  Swiss  cantons  are  conservative 
almost  to  reaction.  What  the  democratic  voter  de- 
mands is  his  chance  to  vote  and  talk,  what  he  shirks 
is  both  the  talking  and  the  voting.  It  takes  time 
and  thought  to  help  manage  the  public  business,  and 
with  the  possession  of  the  right  there  is,  paradoxically, 
the  abstention  from  duty. 

This  is  one  dark  side  of  unrepresentative  democra- 
cies. Another  is  that  only  those  persons  with  a  cer- 
tain leisure  can  perform  their  civic  duties.  The  active 
citizen  must  attend  and  think.  Of  old  as  now,  he 
did  and  docs  enjoy  a  political  and  intellectual  educa- 
tion of  very  fine  quality,  his  mind  is  sharpened  by 
debate,  his  will  strengthened  by  use  and  his  admin- 
istrative cunning  heightened  in  the  management  of 
large  and  perplexing  affairs.  An  honest  public  ser- 
vant is  a  very  honest  man  indeed.  But  such  per- 
formance of  hard  duty  is  simply  impossible  to  medi- 
ocrity, to  the  petty  trader  and  the  laborious  artisan 
whose  time  is  absorbed  in  the  tasks  which  furnish  for 
himself  and  family  a  subsistence  scanty  at  best. 
The  ancients  were  lovers  of  their  kind,  but  they  felt 
that  slavery  and  serfage  in  some  degree  were  the  essen- 
tial basis  of  the  economic  structure  in  which  freemen 
could  give  themselves  to  public  duty  without  remun- 
eration, or  at  most  with  very  little.  Totally  aside 
from  this  the  direct  democracies  have  always  been 
hotbeds  of  combinations,  of  secret  conspiracies,  and 
of  passionate  excitement  in  crucial  moments.  They 
have  sought  a  remedy  in  auguries  or  choice  by  lot; 
and  their  multiplication  of  paid  officers  has  been  no- 


ITS  INSTITUTIONS 


63 


torious.  Their  worst  disease  was  contempt  for  law 
and  the  overriding  of  its  permanent  values  by  a  catch 
vote  of  the  assembly.  The  demagogue  of  a  popular 
direct  democracy  was,  and  is,  a  far  more  dangerous 
man  than  the  talkative  "politocrat"  we  designate  by 
the  name  of  demagogue  in  a  representative  govern- 
ment. There  has  been  no  constitution  to  control 
him,  and  with  the  demos  behind  him  he  is  always, 
at  the  most  critical  moments  of  history,  an  irrespon- 
sible tyrant.  No  form  of  government  has  more  sorely 
felt  the  need,  the  absolute  necessity,  of  checks  and 
brakes  on  its  organs  of  unlimited  debate,  of  the  visible 
vote  in  the  hands  of  intimidated  voters,  and  of  snap 
decisions  taken  in  the  heat  of  passion.  Finally,  when 
voters  are  comparatively  few,  what  euphemistically 
we  call  gentlemen's  agreements,  are  so  easily  made 
as  to  menace  the  very  existence  of  constituted 
authority. 

Aside,  therefore,  from  the  organs  of  democracy  we 
have  been  considering,  and  which  react  as  a  whole 
most  unfavorably  on  the  voter's  sense  of  duty  and 
responsibility,  the  history  of  democracy  shows  us 
the  evolution  of  three  institutions  to  secure  safety 
and  sanity  in  the  exercise  of  popular  sovereignty, 
viz.:  representation,  constitutions,  and  privileged  suf- 
frage. If  the  lines  so  far  traced  are  accurate,  democ- 
racy began  with  a  privileged  suffrage,  continued 
through  long  ages  in  the  use  of  one,  and  expanded  it 
only  under  the  force  of  pressure  from  without;  until 
to-day  most  free  states  have  substantially  universal 
manhood  suffrage,  and  are  preparing  rather  carefully 
for  what  some  likewise  already  have,  universal 
womanhood  suffrage.  The  history  of  democracy 
might  almost  be  written  under  two  captions:  the 
growth  of  multitudinous  democracies,  and  the  ex- 
pansion of  the  suffrage.  We  have  elsewhere  indi- 
cated what  a  slippery  thing  is  a  right,  and  how 


64  DEMOCRACY  IN  HISTORY: 


elusive  the  definition  of  all  our  terms,  but  the  right 
to  suffrage  is  no  longer  considered  a  grant  from  the 
body  politic,  as  it  really  is;  it  is  held  to  be  inherent 
in  every  adult  free  man  or  free  woman.  In  that 
great  body  of  law  from  which  our  own  derives,  the 
male  subject  or  citizen  was  adult  in  civil  rights  at 
the  purely  arbitrary  age  of  fourteen,  the  female  at 
twelve;  while  in  political  rights  both  were  adult  when 
adolescence  was  complete,  the  arbitrary  age  of  twenty- 
one.  Yet  the  public  defense  has  been  throughout 
the  ages  entrusted  to  males  from  seventeen  upward. 

There  has  never  been  a  logical  reasonableness  in 
fixing  the  age  limit  for  exercising  the  suffrage.  Nor 
in  any  other  respect.  A  vicious  person  behind  prison 
bars  cannot  vote,  nor  an  interned  lunatic.  But  the 
unrestrained  vicious  and  insane,  can  and  do,  numer- 
ous as  they  are.  Civil  ignominy,  the  loss  of  character: 
civil  disability,  the  loss  of  mind,  are  no  more  a  bar 
than  poverty,  the  loss  of  fortune.  In  some  States  of 
this  union  there  is  a  requirement  that  the  voter  can 
interpret  the  Constitution;  one  is  asked:  Who  is  the 
President?  and  released  to  cast  his  ballot;  another 
to  explain  the  balances  of  the  Constitution,  and 
turned  away  because  he  cannot  do  so.  Similar  facts 
could  be  narrated  regarding  education  and  property 
qualifications.  Probably  we  shall  never  be  able  to 
set  definite  limits,  but  the  tendency  is  to  exclude 
the  fewest  possible  theoretically.  Practically  the 
more  numerous  the  electorate,  the  less  value  is  placed 
on  the  ballot,  and  the  political  boss  tends  to  become 
the  irresponsible  ruler. 

Yet  no  reasonable  patriot  considers  for  one  instant 
the  impossible  return  to  former  conditions.  We  do 
discuss  more  stringent  naturalization  laws,  we  have 
a  certain  small  property  qualification  for  immigrants, 
and  strictly  scrutinize  their  mental  and  physical 
health  lest  they  become  a  public  charge,  sometimes 
we  hear  murmurings  about  the  age  limit  of  the  quali- 


ITS  INSTITUTIONS 


65 


fied  voter;  but  we  have  learned  thoroughly  the  les- 
son that  there  is  no  such  safety-valve  against  revolu- 
tionary explosion  as  the  feeling  of  every  man  and 
woman  that,  however  slight  the  influence  of  a  single 
vote,  yet  his  or  hers  is  as  great  as  that  of  anyone 
else.  Constitutional  agitation  has  totally  supplanted 
active  rebellion.  Then,  too,  the  mass  submits 
to  obedience,  and  even  forcible  restraint,  as  never 
before.  Attention  has  been  called  to  Jelfferson's 
outspoken  opinion  that  minor  revolutionary  out- 
bursts would  necessarily  be  of  frequent  occurrence 
under  democratic  government.  His  forecast  was  not 
correct.  No  tyrant  and  no  oligarchy  can  command 
such  obedience  as  that  which  we  feel  is  rendered  to 
ourselves.  What  burdens  of  taxation  we  bear  with- 
out a  murmur !  what  restraint  of  personal  liberty ! 
what  galling  service  we  render !  When  it  comes  to 
efficiency  of  a  certain  kind  democracy  proves  its 
superiority,  exactly  in  proportion  as  the  suffrage  has 
been  yielded  to  the  immense  majority.  But  the 
climax  of  value  in  an  extended  suffrage  is  found  in 
the  adoption  of  constitutions,  and  in  the  devotion 
paid  to  the  stern  restrictions  they  impose  on  action, 
to  the  continuity  of  national  life  which  they  guarantee. 

When  considering  the  history  of  democratic  thought 
and  action  it  was  manifest  that  a  declaration  of  rights 
must  be  the  preamble  of  every  constitution  in  a  free 
government,  whether  written  or  unwritten.  Some 
principles  are  sacred  and  universal,  and  the  method 
of  working  democracy  must  be  their  bulwark  against 
insidious  injury.  Haste  and  enthusiasm  are  detri- 
mental to  sustained  freedom:  political  porridge  must 
be  cooled  before  eaten.  The  purpose  of  a  constitu- 
tion is  to  safeguard  a  democracy  against  precipitancy, 
and  yet  point  out  a  way  whereby  needed  change  can 
cautiously  be  made  in  order  to  meet  new  conditions 
in  society.  The  act  must  follow  the  will  at  a  certain 
distance  of  time,  because  the  will  of  a  popular  assem- 


66  DEMOCRACY  IN  HISTORY 


bly  is  not  likely  to  be  what,  after  careful  considera- 
tion, it  seemed  to  be  in  the  heat  and  passion  of  party 
strife.  In  a  sense  every  constitution  is  a  piece  of 
popular  legislation,  because  its  contents,  made  by 
selected  experts,  are  in  some  form  or  another  sub- 
mitted to  the  people  for  final  decision.  That  was  a 
notable  instance  within  a  few  years  when  the  people 
of  New  York  State  declined  to  accept  an  elaborate 
draft  for  a  new  constitution  because  the  party  lead- 
ers denounced  it  as  undemocratic.  They  preferred  a 
confessedly  defective  popular  charter  which  safe- 
guards not  so  much  democracy  as  the  politicians  who 
are  jealous  for  party  power,  and  their  own  manipu- 
lations of  it. 

The  majority  of  voters  can  always  block  the  action 
of  a  minority  at  the  polls,  the  object  of  a  constitution 
is  that  a  minority  can  block  the  action  of  a  majority 
until  a  change  in  the  organic  law,  difficult  to  secure, 
restores  power  to  the  majority.  Against  such  a  sus- 
pensive veto  irresponsible  radicals  inveigh  bitterly. 
Robbery  of  private  rights  and  of  property  is  much 
easier  when  there  is  a  single  chamber,  popular  or  rep- 
resentative, influenced  by  oratorical  demagogues, 
than  in  a  two-chambered  legislature,  and  there  is  no 
such  barricade  athwart  the  rush  of  the  mob  as  that 
peculiar  law  which  we  call  a  constitution,  a  law  diffi- 
cult to  make,  and  difficult  to  change.  By  it  a  minority 
may  hope  to  secure  time  for  agitation  and  discussion, 
and  change  itself  into  a  majority.  The  constitution 
is  the  confession  that  the  majority,  however  large, 
is  not  always  right,  and  that  even  all  the  people  are 
not  right  all  the  time.  By  it  the  professional  dis- 
turber and  revolutionary  is  checked  while  the  apostle 
of  liberty  and  justice  secures  a  hearing.  It  is  bar- 
barism to  live  wholly  in  the  present:  the  highest 
faculties  of  civilized  man  are  concerned  with  a  stable 
future. 


V 


DEMOCRACY  IN  HISTORY:  ITS  DEVICES 

THE  REPRESENTATIVE  SYSTEM — TAXATION — THE  TORY  CONCEPT  OF  REP- 
RESENTATION; DELEGATION — METHODS  OF  CHOOSING  REPRESENTA- 
TIVES— REPRESENTATION  OF  MINORITIES  AND  INTERESTS — REACTION 

OF  ITS  ORGANS  ON  PURE  DEMOCRACY  THE  AMERICAN  PRESIDENT  AS 

A  REPRESENTATIVE — MEN  AND  SYSTEMS  IN  DEMOCRACY — THE  THREE 
IMPERIAL  DEMOCRACIES — ESSENTIAL  DEMOCRACY  OF  GREAT  BRITAIN 

— DEMOCRATIC    ELEMENTS    IN    VARIOUS    STATES  CAREERS   OPEN  TO 

TALENTS  IN  THE  ORIENT — CHURCH  AND  EMPIRE  IN  EUROPE — INFLU- 
ENCE OF  NATIONALITY. 

Together  with  unlimited  suffrage  and  subordination 
to  constitutions  goes  the  representative  system,  with- 
out which  a  democracy  great  in  numbers  and  large 
in  territory  cannot  exist.  Its  origin  was  in  the  sum- 
moning by  the  crown  of  persons  from  the  estates  to 
parley  with  the  king:  as  to  making  laws,  as  to  their 
execution,  especially  as  to  money  grants  for  the  needs 
of  government.  Its  history  exhibits  certain  persons 
as  always  willing  and  able  to  obey  and  attend  in  parlia- 
ment; certain  other  persons  as  likely  to  attend;  and 
the  many  as  unable  to  attend,  but  glad  to  make 
themselves  heard  through  one  who  would  be  on  the 
ground.  While  representation  is  now  a  democratic 
device  it  was  originally  a  right,  the  right  of  consent 
to  taxation.  Throughout  Europe  the  so-called  estates 
were  nothing  more  nor  less  than  natural  divisions  of 
the  people.  With  the  gradual  extinction  and  final  dis- 
appearance of  feudalism  in  the  fifteenth  century,  and 
of  the  clergy  as  a  separate  order,  the  crown  and 
commons  were  confronted  face  to  face,  with  no  in- 
termediary; and  while  in  law  the  crown  represented 
the  whole  people,  as  our  presidents  claim  to  do,  and 

67 


68  DEMOCRACY  IN  HISTORY: 


are  admitted  to  do,  indirectly  at  least,  yet  in  all 
other  respects  popular  sovereignty  came  to  reside  in 
the  lower  house,  the  House  of  Commons.  With  time 
the  crown  itself  as  a  power  of  government  has  been 
put  in  commission  to  the  Cabinet,  which  proposes, 
makes,  and  administers  the  laws  in  the  name  of  the 
people.  Corresponding  to  this  curious  devolution 
was  a  change,  or  series  of  changes,  in  the  quality  of 
representation. 

Taxation  being  basic  to  all  government,  the  tax- 
payer's spokesman  came  to  represent  the  people's 
share  in  all  government.  Under  Edward  III  all 
members  of  Parliament  still  sat  together  as  one  body, 
it  was  solely  a  matter  of  convenience  that  the  knights 
of  the  shire  and  the  burgesses  of  the  towns  sat  in  a 
room  apart,  as  the  House  of  Commons;  the  great 
nobles  constituting  a  House  of  Lords.  In  the  main 
the  attendance  of  the  commons  was  unwilling,  they 
wished  neither  to  grant  nor  to  pay  money.  The  rep- 
resentatives had  two  shillings  a  day  when  on  duty, 
and  their  constituents  were  glad  when  absence  made 
payment  unnecessary.  Accordingly,  those  who  sat 
came  to  feel  that  the  interests  of  the  whole  realm 
were  represented  by  each  sitting  member,  no  matter 
how  he  got  his  seat,  and  that  was  the  initial  concep- 
tion of  modern  representation,  now  denounced  as 
Tory.  It  was  our  own  conception  in  colonial  days; 
although  here  as  in  England  the  eighteenth  century 
fostered  the  Whig  view  that  local  interests  required 
local  representation.  To-day  we  consider  the  rep- 
resentative as  misnamed,  he  is  a  delegate  to  register 
the  convictions  of  the  narrow  constituency  for  which 
he  sits,  and  as  he  hopes  for  reelection  he  must  so 
behave.  If  to  these  types  of  representation  and  dele- 
gation we  add  that  of  communities,  as  in  some  New 
England  States,  and  in  our  federal  Senate,  and  also 
the  ambassadorial  representation  in  the  former  Ger- 


ITS  DEVICES 


69 


man  Imperial  Council,  we  have  a  fairly  complete  list 
of  all  its  forms. 

A  striking  example  of  the  reaction  of  the  organ 
on  the  organism  is  found  in  the  method  of  choosing 
representatives  and  delegates.  The  common  good  is 
both  general  and  local:  each  locality  may  elect  a 
representative,  or  else  the  whole  mass  of  voters 
within  the  State  territory  may  elect  a  general  list, 
as  of  presidential  electors.  Theoretically,  the  general 
ticket  is  the  best  way,  reminding  every  candidate  of 
his  grave  responsibility  to  the  whole  community,  of 
his  superior  duty.  But  he  loses  thereby  the  sense  of 
immediate  responsibility  and  degenerates  into  a  pro- 
fessional office-holder.  In  France  they  try  first  one, 
then  the  other  method,  and  the  alternation  has  a 
cleansing  influence  on  their  politics.  We  are  wedded 
to  the  local  ticket  in  one  house,  because  in  the  others 
we  have  the  general,  the  popular  election  of  senators. 
The  trouble  with  the  single  member  for  each  small 
district  is  that  the  minority  of  voters  in  the  whole 
State  may  have  a  substantial  majority  in  the  legisla- 
ture; the  advocates  of  home  rule  for  the  city  of  New 
York  complain  that  while  the  State  as  a  whole  is 
Democratic,  the  legislature  is  so  often  Republican.  It 
is  also  generally  recognized  that  a  sparse  agricultural 
population  should  have  proportionately  a  larger  rep- 
resentation, because  a  dense  urban  population  can 
more  easily  unite  to  exert  quick  pressure. 

Manifestly  a  small  stable  majority  can  easily  be- 
come an  intolerable  tyrant,  and  minority  representa- 
tion in  some  form  has  many  advocates;  so  far  the 
clumsy  machinery  devised  to  secure  it  has  thwarted 
any  general  adoption  of  the  principle.  There  was  a 
time  when  a  demand  for  the  representation  of  inter- 
ests could  get  a  respectful  hearing  in  America.* 
For  many  years,  however,  this  has  been  impossible 
*  Calhoun's  Works,  I. 


70  DEMOCRACY  IN  HISTORY: 


because  the  interests,  agricultural,  industrial,  and 
commercial  have  known  how  to  secure  it  without 
recourse  to  constitutional  guarantee.  Exactly  as 
the  boss  or  "politocrat"  is  unknown  to  the  law,  and 
therefore  dangerous,  the  captain  of  industry,  like- 
wise unknown  to  the  law,  as  such,  so  manipulates 
certain  districts  and  their  representatives  as  to  secure 
the  undue  representation  of  interests.  The  most 
formidable  reaction  in  every  democratic  state  is  that 
of  these  two  classes  in  debauching  the  electorate. 
The  agricultural  trusts  composed  of  farmers  are  the 
retort  to  the  financial  trust  and  the  labor  trust. 
What  are  these  trusts  but  combinations  of  interests 
to  control  legislation  and  markets?  If  absorption  in 
locality  be  the  bane  of  a  system  tending  toward  pure 
delegation,  absorption  in  the  various  interests  is  quite 
as  detrimental  to  the  democratic  ideal  of  government 
by  all  the  people  for  the  benefit  of  all  the  people. 

It  seems  a  strange  irony  that  universal  suffrage, 
and  constitutional  representative  government,  the 
very  organs  which  make  great  democratic  states 
possible,  should  react  in  a  threefold  way  to  check  the 
free  play  of  pure  democracy.  Yet  they  do,  and  in 
consequence  there  is  a  wide-spread  and  most  un- 
reasonable discontent.  Human  ingenuity  has  ex- 
hausted itself  in  the  invention  of  devices  to  remedy 
what  are  considered  a  disease  of  the  body  politic. 
In  these  latest  days  the  initiative,  the  referendum, 
the  recall,  and  the  nominating  primary  have  been 
incorporated  in  our  organic  laws;  we  have  enormous 
ballots  which  few  read,  and  fewer  understand,  and 
of  course  the  obvious  retort  to  such  absurdity,  the 
short  ballot  for  diminishing  the  number  of  elective 
officers  and  making  politics  a  responsible  profession 
for  the  few.  Yet  the  enthusiasm  initially  felt  for 
them  all  is  rapidly  dwindling,  and  is  well  nigh  ex- 
tinct, because  by  their  works  they  are  known,  and 


ITS  DEVICES 


71 


their  works  are  not  uniformly  good.  It  is  a  phe- 
nomenon of  high  import  that  in  city  government  the 
voters  in  ever  increasing  numbers  throw  to  the  four 
winds  the  democratic  devices  of  numerous  officials, 
frequent  elections,  and  rotation  in  office,  because 
they  want  economy,  honesty,  and  efficiency  in  the 
conduct  of  public  business,  and  so  entrust  it  to 
trained  experts  in  the  commission  form  of  govern- 
ment. 

Even  the  highest  federal  office,  that  of  President, 
threatens  to  become  with  the  march  of  time  a  per- 
sonal possession  for  a  second  term.  It  is  no  longer 
much  of  an  honor  to  be,  or  have  been,  a  one-term 
President,  unless  some  cataclysmic  disturbance  has 
totally  demoralized  the  normal  flow  of  political  events. 
Such  is  the  disturbance  of  business,  such  the  enormous 
cost,  such  the  needless  bitterness  induced  by  a  general 
election  that  a  multitude  cries  out  for  a  legal  extension 
of  the  term  of  office  to  eight  years,  or  six,  with  a  con- 
comitant easy  recall  in  case  of  general  discontent; 
many  say  six  years  and  no  recall,  many  others  demand 
a  constitutional  amendment  to  strip  the  presidential 
office  of  its  overweening  importance,  a  menace,  it  is  de- 
clared, to  popular  sovereignty  and  free  institutions. 
There  should  be  no  ruling  class,  elective  or  otherwise, 
in  a  democracy,  and  to  endure  even  a  four-years' 
monarch  is  to  nullify  the  general  will  for  that  period. 
A  similar  outcry  is  heard  in  Great  Britain  and  in 
France.  In  the  latter  country  it  is  the  Protestants, 
Jews,  and  free-thinkers  who  perpetuate  their  power, 
because  they  only,  perhaps  2,000,000  in  all,  take  a  vital 
interest  in  politics.  At  Westminster,  government  is 
conducted  by  co-opted  officials,  and  by  collusion  be- 
tween the  leaders  on  front  benches  of  both  parties, 
while  huge  secret  funds  are  accumulated  in  the  party 
chests  by  the  sale  of  honors,  and  spent  in  secret  to 
corrupt  the  electorate  in  one  form  or  another.  The 


72  DEMOCRACY  IN  HISTORY: 

very  organs  which  democracy  has  created  to  fulfil  its 
destiny  are  represented  as  turning  and  gnawing  at  its 
vitals.  Away  with  party  government  is  the  general 
cry  in  the  mightiest  democracies. 

Naturally  we  ask  ourselves:  Where  lies  the  fault? 
Is  it  in  the  organs  or  in  the  men  who  work  them? 
And  is  our  democracy  really  in  danger?  Is  the  rem- 
edy for  the  evils  of  democracy  more  democracy,  as 
an  American  ambassador  declared  at  a  public  dinner 
in  London  a  short  time  ago?  To  a  very  few  the 
answer  seems  plain:  the  remedy  is:  better  men  and 
women  voters;  a  higher  moral  tone,  and  better  men 
in  office.  To  another  few  the  other  answer  seems 
plain :  better  methods,  better  organs,  a  better  system. 
So  we  are  more  clearly  seeing  that  the  system  reacts 
on  the  man  much  as  man  reacts  on  the  system. 
A  one-time  treasurer  of  the  United  States  assured 
me  that  Hamilton's  organization  of  the  Treasury 
had  made  dishonesty  impossible,  so  wonderful  was  it, 
and  that  with  the  stupendous  increase  of  its  business 
peculation  becomes  more  and  more  impossible,  the 
system  making  the  man.  But  granting  the  allege- 
ment,  we  must  still  recollect  that  it  was  an  honest 
man  who  made  the  honest  system.  No  historical 
truth  is  more  disturbing  than  the  fact  that  wicked 
men  are  so  often  the  instruments  of  beneficent  re- 
forms; but  in  contemplating  that  truth  we  per- 
petually neglect  the  more  universal  one :  that  human 
wickedness  in  high  places  is  what  makes  the  reform 
essential.  We  must  have  both  good  men  and  good 
systems;  bad  environment  plays  havoc  with  spine- 
less morality,  and  spineless  morality  corrupts  good 
systems.  Neither  democracy  nor  its  organs  are 
necessarily  untrustworthy  because  there  are  con- 
comitant evils.  Optimism  is  a  dangerous  state  of 
mind,  but  so  is  pessimism.  The  two  political  sys- 
tems of  democracy  and  monarchy  are  still  in  a  titanic 


ITS  DEVICES 


73 


'^struggle  for  ascendancy.  There  is  in  the  supporters 
of  the  latter  a  wild  hysteria.  All  is  for  the  best  in 
this  best  of  all  possible  worlds,  as  Doctor  Pangloss 
says  in  "Candide."  We  on  our  side  chorus  forth  the 
paean  of  democracy,  but  not  in  such  phrase.  We  are 
painfully  scrutinizing  the  spirit,  the  work,  and  the 
results  of  the  system  we  are  called  on  to  defend. 
And  we  are  demanding  that  the  enemy  do  likewise. 

Thus  far  we  have  been  outlining  the  history  of  de- 
mocracy in  its  great  central  current,  and  have  been  ob- 
serving the  reaction  on  it  of  the  organs  it  has  created 
to  secure  the  expression  of  the  popular  will  in  action. 
The  present  exhibits  the  largest  and  fullest  measure 
of  success,  as  attained  by  three  western  powers,  all 
of  which,  it  must  be  remarked,  are  either  empires  act- 
ually, or  entertain  partly  realized  ideals  of  empire. 
That  such  is  the  case  furnishes  the  bill  of  indictment 
against  them  by  hostile  critics,  and  is  a  source  of  un- 
easiness to  many  British,  French,  and  American  men. 
The  subject  is  too  large  for  discussion  here.  It  must 
suffice  to  say  that  France  as  a  centralized  democracy, 
retaining  in  the  main  monarchical  forms  of  administra- 
tion, thinks  in  those  terms  regarding  her  colonies  and 
world  empire,  having  as  yet  organized  no  semi-autono- 
mous French  colonial  states  as  equals  in  a  federal 
chain.  As  to  Great  Britain  there  is  no  such  convinc- 
ing proof  of  her  essential  democracy  as  her  imperial 
policy  since  she  learned  the  bitter  lesson  of  how  not 
to  treat  British  dependencies.  Her  great  colonies 
are  independent  nations,  linked  to  her  by  symbolic 
cobwebs,  all  of  them  democratic  in  their  governments. 
Her  minor  colonies  have  a  governor  appointed  by 
the  crown,  but  otherwise  they  enjoy  complete  local 
self-government.  India  presents  a  very  peculiar  spec- 
tacle. Divided  into  many  states,  of  some  Great 
Britain  is  a  protector,  of  some  an  ally,  and  in  some 
she  is  supreme;  throughout  the  vast  peninsula  jus- 


74  DEMOCRACY  IN  HISTORY: 


tice  as  the  natives  understand  it  in  the  various  com- 
munities is  administered  under  her  aegis:  the  laws  of 
Manu,  the  law  of  the  Koran,  and  the  law  of  England. 
Some  of  the  Indian  peoples  earnestly  want  complete 
emancipation,  but  the  overwhelming  majority  are 
unconscious  of  foreign  control,  so  entirely  do  they 
enjoy  their  own  institutions.  Much  the  same  is  true 
of  Egypt.  This  and  our  dealings  with  Cuba,  Hawaii, 
Porto  Rico,  and  the  Philippines,  go  to  prove  at  least 
the  tolerant  spirit  of  the  two  purest  democratic  em- 
pires. Naturally  the  book  of  history  is  not  closed, 
and  the  ultimate  test  of  democracy  will  be  its  imperial 
policy,  regarding  non-contiguous  colonial  dominions. 
If  modern  democracy  really  begets  the  ultimate  com- 
plete independence  of  its  outlying  sections,  it  will 
have  stood  the  test.  Otherwise  the  fate  of  Rome,  of 
an  imperfect  democracy  ruling  other  imperfect  democ- 
racies, is  sure  to  overtake  it. 

What  constitutes  complete  democracy?  Opinions 
differ  widely.  All  democrats  believe  democracy  the 
initial  principle  of  life,  in  which,  so  perfect  is  it  from 
birth,  there  can  be  no  development;  but  we  all 
know  equally  well  that  from  the  beginning,  the  world 
around,  its  longings  have  been  fulfilled  most  incom- 
pletely as  far  as  the  state  in  general  and  government 
in  particular  are  concerned.  We  know  no  Oriental 
monarchy,  past  or  present,  where  the  sense  of  democ- 
racy is  totally  lacking.  Indeed  the  wider  the  gulf 
between  ruler  and  ruled  the  flatter  the  level  of  all 
subjects.  They  are  equal  in  fate,  brothers  in  oppres- 
sion, and  free  in  their  degree  of  obedience.  By  hyper- 
bole we  may,  therefore,  talk  of  a  democratic  autoc- 
racy, of  obedience  as  by  consent  of  the  governed, 
because  the  organized  physical  force  of  the  many 
could  always,  as  it  frequently  did,  overthrow  the 
power  of  the  one.  There  were  eight  changes  of  power 
in  the  history  of  ancient  Egypt  alone,  all  consequent 


ITS  DEVICES 


75 


on  revolution.  We  have  authentic  records  of  men 
rising  by  sheer  merit  from  the  lowHest  estate  to  the 
highest. 

The  career  open  to  the  talents  is  the  proudest 
boast  of  democracy,  and  its  most  strenuous  effort  is 
to  make  the  assertion  of  talent  in  action  easier  and 
easier.  At  the  present  hour  Japan  and  many  states 
of  India  maintain  the  aristocratic  temper;  while 
China,  and  some  even  of  the  states  in  northern  India 
have  been  throughout  their  history  thoroughly  demo- 
cratic. Wherever  Islam  subdued  the  peoples  of  Africa, 
Asia,  and  Europe  to  its  sway  it  founded  monarchies, 
but  its  religious  teachings  are  so  inherently  demo- 
cratic, and  the  unity  of  religion  and  government  so 
complete  that  the  autocracies  of  Mohammedanism 
were  and  are  so  unstable  that  the  history  of  the 
system  is  a  history  of  democratic  assertion,  of  radical 
political  revolution.  What  no  single  Oriental  state 
was  able  to  devise  was  the  machinery  of  democratic 
government.  The  democratic  state  of  mind  existed 
in  them  all,  except  a  very  few.  Those  which  were 
contemporary  with  Greece  and  Rome,  Persians  and 
Parthians,  boasted  their  primitive  democratic  origins. 

When,  passing  by  the  Greco-Roman  period,  we 
come  to  European  medisevalism  and  to  feudalism,  the 
Christian  churches,  especially  the  Roman,  proud  as 
was  its  feudalized  hierarchy,  were  founded  on  the 
rock  of  equality  before  God,  one  soul  being  exactly 
as  precious  in  His  sight  as  another,  and  the  career 
of  service  being  determined  not  by  privilege  but  by 
capacity.  A  mechanic's  son  might  be  pope.  Paral- 
lel to  the  ecclesiastical  power  was  the  imperial.  The 
emperors  were  elective,  as  were  the  popes.  The 
checks  upon  imperial  power  were  all  in  the  interest 
of  the  peoples,  and  while  the  mediaeval  dualism  was 
more  a  shadow  than  a  reality,  yet  it  ruled  men's 
hearts,  if  not  their  bodies;  and  down  to  the  end  was 


76  DEMOCRACY  IN  HISTORY 


intended  as  a  court  of  appeal  for  the  oppressed 
against  feudal  monarchs  ruling  by  fist-right.  It  was 
the  rise  of  nationalities,  the  delimitation  of  national 
territories,  the  development  of  national  speech,  which 
produced  a  willingness,  even  an  eagerness  among  the 
peoples  for  an  irresponsible  leadership  which  in  per- 
petual warfare  provided  a  rallying  point;  which,  first 
elective,  easily  became  hereditary;  and,  limited  at 
first  by  the  estates,  used  standing  armies  to  become 
absolute,  in  name  at  least. 

In  the  king  was  personified  the  passion  of  patri- 
otism, the  love  of  home  and  country.  The  church 
likewise  was  nationalized  and  formed  with  the  sec- 
ular power  a  league  so  close  that  the  way  was  only 
too  easy  for  the  abuse  of  power,  and  the  destruction 
of  personal  liberty.  The  church,  first  feudalized  and 
then  nationalized,  reacted  on  the  papacy,  turned  it 
into  an  Italianate  principality,  and  easily  secured 
the  sanction  of  its  catholic  power  to  enforce  the  na- 
tional decree.  The  double  sword  of  ecclesiastical  and 
secular  authority  was  irresistible  while  faith  survived 
in  the  human  heart.  The  regimen  was  one  of  abject 
fear.  It  was  against  this  citadel  that  modern  democ- 
racy, always  living,  but  dormant  and  embryonic, 
began  in  the  eighteenth  century  to  lay  siege.  While 
victory  of  activity  and  agitation  has  been  a  triumph 
over  inertia,  yet  it  is  still  incomplete,  and  to  our 
generation  is  entrusted  the  taking  of  the  next  for- 
ward step:  to  oust  the  surviving  powers  of  oppres- 
sion from  their  inner  keeps,  especially  those  which 
lurk  within  our  own  defenses. 


VI 


democracy:  its  formula  and  terms 

HABIT  AND   FORCE    AS    SANCTIONS  OF  CONDUCT;    SOVEREIGNTY  MORS 
AND   MORE   DIVIDED   IN   THE   EVOLUTION   OF   DEMOCRACY — FREEDOM 

AND  LIBERTY  UNDER  VARIOUS  FORMS  OF  DEMOCRACY  THE  POLITO- 

CRAT  AS  AN  ADVISER  OF  IGNORANT  VOTERS— DEMOCRACY  AS  A  TASK- 
MASTER IN  POLITIC^VL  EDUCATION — SURVIVAL  OF  MISLEADING  TERMS; 
INDIVIDUALS  EXERT  NO  SOVEREIGNTY  AND  RETAIN  NO  RIGHT  EXCEPT 
THAT  TO  AGITATE  AND  UPTURN — EVERY  SYSTEM  OF  DEMOCRACY  DE- 
PENDENT ON  THE  MAJORITY  OF  THOSE  WHO  WORK  IT;    BAD  MEN  IN 

MINORITY    MAY    BE    REFORMED  MEASURES    HELPLESS    TO  PRODUCE 

EQUALITY,  MUST  BE  SUPPLEMENTED  BY  MEN — EQUALITY  IN  POSSES- 
SION OF  CIVIL  AND  POLITICAL  RIGHTS  ONLY,  NEVER  IN  THEIR  EXERCISE, 
WHERE  ABILITY  COUNTS — THE  PASSION  FOR  INEQUALITY  A  MENACE 
TO  DEMOCRACY — POSSESSION  OF  CIVIL  RIGHTS  IMPORTUNES  POLITICAL 

AND  FINALLY  SOCIAL  RIGHTS  CLAIMS  OF  THE  WEAK  ON  THE  STRONG; 

STATE  SOCIALISM  A  MENACE — BUREAUCRACY,  CIVIL  SERVICE,  OFFICE- 
HOLDERS A  MENACE  LIKEWISE — POLITOCRATS  AND  PLUTOCRATS,  THEIR 
DANGEROUS  ALLIANCE — DEMOCRACY  A  CHAMELEON  IN  ITS  HUES. 

Scientific  inquiry  into  the  origin  and  development 
of  democracy  as  a  political  system  results  in  the  con- 
viction that  there  neither  is  nor  has  been  an  absolute 
best  form  of  government  for  human  association. 
Examining  successive  stages  of  social  progress,  each 
of  these  has  at  its  zenith  created  for  itself  a  form  of 
government  fitted  to  secure  its  gains  and  give  the 
freest  play  to  the  aptitudes  of  its  more  powerful 
members.  The  strong  have  always  asserted  and  had 
their  liberty;  the  consciously  weak  have  felt  them- 
selves oppressed.  Not  always,  indeed  rarely,  have 
the  physically  strong  or  the  physically  weak  been 
supreme.  The  sound  mind  in  the  sound  body  may 
be  general  but  it  is  not  universal;  the  unsound  body 
may  entertain  a  sound  mind.  The  power  to  create 
a  political  organism  has,  it  seems,  been  collective; 
it  has  emanated  from  general  kinship,  or  common 
faith,  or  social  wealth,  or  mutual  idealism;  only  now 

77 


78 


DEMOCRACY: 


and  then,  however,  and  only  for  intervals,  from  col- 
lective force.  The  chains  of  habit  in  government, 
active  and  passive,  have  always  been  far  stronger 
than  those  of  the  police  power.  Right  in  its  broad 
sense  of  constructive  behavior  has  always  had  a 
moral  ascendancy  over  might. 

If  the  true  and  sane  evolutionary  thought  of  nat- 
ural science  points  in  any  direction  it  is  to  indicate 
the  transmutation  of  the  state  from  a  simple  to  a 
complex  organic  character.  There  is  always  the 
same  sovereignty,  the  one  indispensable  character- 
istic of  the  state;  but  at  first  its  outline  is  discerned 
darkly;  then,  as  resident  in  a  person,  or  a  com- 
mittee of  persons,  and  lastly,  with  great  difficulty, 
in  a  vast  number  of  persons,  either  the  entirety  or 
the  majority  of  the  individuals  composing  the  state. 
Real  sovereignty  cannot  be  inactive,  but  lives  in  its 
own  reactions;  hence  arises  a  unit  or  group  of  units 
resisting  its  thrusts  from  within,  while  other  sover- 
eign states  condition  its  development  from  without. 
The  former  may  go  so  far  in  modifying  the  state  as 
to  reconstruct  it;  the  latter  may  compel  its  trans- 
formation, both  social  and  economic,  almost  com- 
pletely. 

From  all  these  evolutionary  considerations,  how- 
ever, we  get  knowledge  that  is  only  partial  in  quan- 
tity, and  in  quality  also  lacks  various  elements  of 
value.  Democracy  has  many  forms,  and  the  defini- 
tion of  its  ideals  requires  a  further  investigation, 
that  of  its  organs,  of  their  varieties,  homologies,  and 
metamorphoses;  of  its  desires  and  aims,  and  of  the 
numerous  expedients  invented  to  express  the  general 
will  as  the  resultant  of  individual  wills.  The  latest 
definition  of  democracy,  the  sense  in  which  intelligent 
men  used  it  until  very  lately,  is  "government  working 
through  public  opinion."  It  has  been  claimed  that 
we  have  a  democratic  monarchy  in  Great  Britain,  a 


ITS  FORMULA  AND  TERMS  79 


democratic  aristocracy  in  France,  a  democratic  federal 
state  in  America,  and  that  we  have  a  pure  democracy 
in  Switzerland.  In  the  struggle  for  "liberty"  and 
the  history  of  "freedom,"  long  and  painful,  we  con- 
gratulate ourselves  on  having  attained  to  a  higher 
degree  of  both  liberty  and  freedom  through  and  in 
these  systems,  than  ever  before.  We  think  of  our 
civilization  as  ripe;  of  ignorance,  superstition,  lust, 
and  luxury  as  under  control ;  and  of  coercion  for  the 
general  good  as  reduced  to  a  minimum  so  small  as 
scarcely  further  to  be  reduced. 

As  to  derivation,  "freedom"  and  "liberty"  are 
Saxon  and  Roman  synonyms,  respectively,  but  in  use 
the  former  is  collective,  the  latter  personal.  Freedom 
is  a  system,  liberty  the  enjoyment  of  the  system  by 
the  exercise  of  choice  and  the  practice  of  duty.  Lord 
Acton  dreamed  of  liberty,  as  defying  authority,  even 
when  expressed  and  enforced  by  the  democratic  de- 
vice of  majority  votes  or  majority  custom,  or  by 
majority  opinion.  So  far,  at  least,  in  social  experi- 
ence the  authority  of  the  people  as  expressed  by  a 
majority  and  enforced  by  their  government,  stands 
in  amused  inertia,  defying  such  defiance  of  its  author- 
ity. Take  the  suffrage,  for  example.  Society  be- 
stows the  right  and  imposes  the  stern  duty  of  its 
exercise.  No  duty  is  more  imperative,  but  the 
mechanical  devices  of  party  government  render  the 
preparation  and  casting  of  a  ballot  so  difficult  that 
certainly  a  fifth  of  us  shirk  our  duty  by  absence; 
many  more  vote  a  ticket  proposed  for  us,  electing 
to  office  unknown  and  unfit  men  by  the  hundreds 
and  thousands;  or  in  small  minority  some  of  us 
spend  painful  hours  in  futile  inquiry  as  to  the  fitness 
of  candidates,  in  order  that  we  may  share  in  govern- 
ment with  at  least  some  slight  glimmering  of  intelli- 
gence. 

Such  imperfect  and  inadequate  performance  of  this 


8o 


DEMOCRACY: 


burdensome  duty  costs,  as  has  been  previously  ex- 
plained, the  taxpayer,  the  candidate,  and  the  party 
committees  at  each  election  about  three  dollars  per 
vote  cast !  Aside  from  the  huge  and  ever  increasing 
salary  list  of  our  administrators,  we  already  spend 
about  eighty  millions  per  annum  for  elections,  and 
when  all  adult  females  get  the  suffrage,  the  tax- 
payer will  apparently  have  to  crouch  under  a  load 
of  one  hundred  and  sixty  millions  for  the  casting 
and  recording  of  votes  every  year.  The  noblest  task, 
therefore,  of  the  enfranchised  individual  becomes  im- 
possible of  performance,  for  the  two  reasons  given, 
because  he  has  a  finite  mind,  and  because  he  possesses 
limited  financial  means.  Neither  brain  nor  pocket 
can  endure  the  strain  of  the  present  devices  for  run- 
ning a  system  of  freedom  and  the  exercise  of  good 
political  habits.  It  is  hypocritical  to  speak  as  if  we 
measurably  approach  the  high  grade  of  democracy 
by  any  expedients  now  in  use,  expedients  selected 
by  majority  vote,  expedients  maintained  by  the  good- 
natured  inertia  of  a  majority.  We  know  that  the 
horde  of  major  and  minor  political  bosses  are  danger- 
ous parasites,  that  they  constitute  an  illegal  and  im- 
moral oligarchy,  cleverly  styled  "politocrats,"  as  we 
have  said,  exercising  a  dangerous  control  by  the  sim- 
ple device  of  advising  ignorant  and  bewildered  voters. 
The  numbers  of  such  votes  we  shall  probably  see 
doubled,  and  another  horde  of  female  "politocrats" 
will  batten  on  a  further  supply  of  political  spoils. 

If  this  really  were  democracy  in  the  sense  of  gov- 
ernment by  public  opinion,  then  in  order  to  escape 
litter  discredit,  the  whole  machinery,  first  of  discov- 
ering and  secondly  of  recording  public  opinion,  will 
have  to  be  simplified  to  the  grasp  of  the  average  mind, 
and  the  number  of  salaried  officials  reduced  by  at 
least  a  half.  In  America  the  state  so  far  is  neither 
a  fetish  nor  an  idol;  while  we  recognize  its  rights  as 


ITS  FORMULA  AND  TERMS  8i 


a  political  progenitor,  we  know  well  the  limitations 
of  the  burdens  it  may  impose.  Those  which  lame  the 
realization  of  our  personality  in  mind,  body,  or 
estate,  we  will  sooner  or  later  refuse  to  bear;  and  if 
it  should  prove  that  the  direct  democracy  which  is 
the  momentarily  dominating  ideal  stands  athwart 
the  path  of  self-realization  or  happiness,  so  much 
the  worse  for  the  system,  when  it  proves  unable  to 
fulfil  the  promises  it  is  vociferously  making.  Ma- 
terial efficiency  is  a  doubtful  blessing;  but  greedy, 
selfish,  inefficiency  is  an  undoubted  curse.  The  peo- 
ple are  honestly  striving  to  trust  themselves;  and  the 
noblest  among  them  declare  that  they  trust  the  mass 
in  its  entirety.  The  lowly  must  be  exalted,  political 
inexperience  must  be  corrected  in  a  costly  school, 
public  opinion  must  be  taught  to  speak  in  clarion 
tones:  these  are  axioms  of  democracy,  and  yet,  the 
sordid  few  must  not  "work"  the  visionary  multitude 
to  the  extent  of  spiritual  and  material  bankruptcy, 
as  they  struggle  to  do  in  season  and  out  of  season; 
viz.,  the  inner  circle  of  seekers  after  power  in  some 
form:  money,  manners,  station,  control;  the  able, 
selfish,  unprincipled  men  of  brains.  Could  power  be 
a  means  to  an  end  and  not  an  end  in  itself,  the  out- 
ward appearance  of  democracy  might  connote  reality 
in  some  degree.  But  not  one  of  us  has  remarked 
either  in  history  or  experience,  the  use  of  civil,  politi- 
cal, or  social  power,  by  its  possessor,  to  deprive  him- 
self of  it  for  the  benefit  of  others. 

The  eighteenth  century  bestowed  upon  posterity 
a  sorry  heritage  of  terms.  Among  these  is  the  con- 
cept of  public  opinion  as  a  force  which  is  the  result- 
ant in  equal  parts  of  every  man's  opinion.  Its  valid- 
ity results,  we  would  fain  believe,  from  the  equal 
value  of  every  man's  contribution  to  it;  such  at  least 
is  the  almost  universal  concept,  because  only  in  that 
sense  can  government  by  public  opinion  be  self- 


82 


DEMOCRACY: 


government,  another  pretty  and  specious,  but  mean- 
ingless phrase.  Governor  and  governed  cannot  be 
the  same,  any  more  than  the  machinist  and  his  ma- 
chine can  be  identical.  If  I  am  lively  and  indefat- 
igable, devoting  most  of  my  time  and  energy  to  my 
task,  I  may  manage  to  be  a  component  element  in 
setting  up  a  power  generally  recognized  as  wielding 
the  authority  of  the  law.  But  that  power  once  set 
up,  limited  it  may  be  by  bills  of  rights,  or  by  division 
into  executive,  judiciary,  and  legislative,  or  by  dura- 
tion in  time — that  power  is  sovereign,  and  my  share 
in  sovereignty  is  beyond  my  reach  or  control.  There 
is  no  self-government  politically,  though  theoretically 
the  individual  may  share  in  moulding  the  form  of 
government.  Over  against  the  state,  the  person  has 
in  the  last  analysis  no  other  right  than  those  legal 
and  moral  ones  which  society  gives  him,  and  which 
he  has  never  surrendered  to  society,  because  he  never 
possessed  them;  unless  perhaps  it  be  that  single  right 
which  the  one  man  has  painfully  acquired  in  the  long 
evolution  of  the  state,  the  right  to  agitate  against 
authority,  to  associate  others  in  the  agitation,  to 
turn  a  minority  into  a  majority,  and  finally  to  over- 
throw existing  conditions,  in  order  to  substitute 
others  for  them. 

The  authority  of  democracy  is  just  as  absolute  as 
that  of  monarchy,  the  citizen  has  just  as  much  lib- 
erty and  no  more  than  the  subject,  unless  popular 
opinion  be  just  as  much  under  the  law  as  King  John 
was  after  Magna  Carta.  And  it  is  just  as  difificult, 
here  and  now,  to  make  the  law-giver  the  law-abider, 
as  it  was  at  Runnymede  seven  hundred  years  ago: 
to  limit  King  Demos  as  to  limit  king  anybody.  Let 
us  not  befog  our  minds  with  the  misty  notion 
that  because  as  sovereign  Americans,  we  theoretically 
helped,  or  our  ancestors  did,  to  set  up  law  and  gov- 
ernment, we  are  free  to  tamper  with  the  system  in 


ITS  FORMULA  AND  TERMS  83 


any  way.  The  only  liberty  we  have  is  to  disobey 
and  take  the  consequences,  a  course  which  is  almost 
always  immoral;  or  to  obey  temporarily  under  pro- 
test and  brave  Mrs.  Grundy,  an  act  of  the  highest 
courage,  and  meantime  to  agitate  for  a  change. 
Liberty  then  is  not  license,  nor  is  democracy  in  any 
of  its  forms  freedom;  that  is,  as  a  matter  of  course. 

Another  baneful  heritage  of  the  eighteenth  cen- 
tury is  the  immovable  conviction,  which  is,  alas !  so 
general,  that  provided  only  the  system  of  govern- 
ment be  good,  there  can  be  good  citizens  or  subjects 
who  are  inherently  bad  men.  The  remedy  for  every 
ill,  according  to  this  doctrine,  lies  in  collective  or- 
ganization, the  compulsion  of  members  in  a  great 
mass  of  individual  equality;  we  can,  of  course,  level 
down  by  bad  system,  it  is  said ;  equally  of  course  we 
must  be  able  to  level  up  by  good  system.  Clap  the 
malefactor  in  jail  and  protect  society  against  him, 
while  some  political  expedient,  some  law  or  organiza- 
tion be  devised  and  operated  to  make  malefactors 
hereafter  impossible  !  In  all  sobriety  we  do  so  reason 
and  do  so  behave,  in  spite  of  the  awful  examples  of 
the  two  Terrors,  the  red  and  the  white,  when  France 
was  putting  this  theory  into  practice.  The  truth 
is  exactly  the  reverse,  mz.,  that  only  good  citizens, 
unselfish  and  tolerant  in  feeling,  and  practising  self- 
denial  in  fact,  can  devise,  set  up,  and  operate  good 
government,  and  that  good  government  can  at  best 
only  minimize  wickedness.  The  best  political  system 
can  be  vitiated  by  a  substantive  body,  a  small  mi- 
nority, of  men  banded  and  organized  to  use  it  for 
selfish  aims.  The  best  laws  and  the  best  adminis- 
t|:ation  are  helpless  unless  a  powerful  body  of  the  best 
citizens  are  equally  active  in  their  support.  There  is 
no  perpetual  motion  in  good  government.  The  main- 
spring must  not  only  be  powerful,  it  requires  daily 
winding.    The  system  of  freedom  requires  the  same 


84 


DEMOCRACY: 


perpetual  vigilance,  as  the  enjoyment  of  personal 
liberty.    The  two  are  synchronous. 

"Measures,  not  men,"  is  another  antiquated  shib- 
boleth closely  related  to  the  former,  a  device  of  ideal- 
ists and  levellers  to  suggest  that  somehow  every  sort 
of  mankind  would  be  confirmed  in  the  full  enjoyment 
of  the  rights  granted  by  the  state,  if  only  there  were 
an  automatic  machinery  of  government,  a  self-oper- 
ating administration  of  universally  accepted  prin- 
ciples, universally  applicable.  In  practice  the  gen- 
eral and  overwhelming  retort  is  "men,  not  measures,** 
which  is  to  say  that  in  each  case  justice  and  equal 
right  are  better  secured  by  the  personal  conscience 
and  individual  responsibility  of  trained  administrators,' 
than  by  the  operation  of  a  mysterious  impersonal 
collective  conscience.  Both  are  heresies,  either  from 
the  democratic  or  aristocratic  standpoint.  The  lat- 
ter admits  the  superiority  of  a  class,  the  former  forces 
on  society  the  bondage  of  the  general  for  the  sake  of 
the  personal,  or  vice  versa.  The  "equality"  of  de- 
mocracy is  non-existent  without  both  men  and  meas- 
ures, for  its  corollary  is  "fraternity,"  the  exercise  of 
self-denial  for  the  benefit  of  another,  and  for  all; 
that  is,  the  amalgamated  measure  and  man;  the 
rule  and  its  exception.  Mankind  has  always  been 
prone  to  worship  the  idol  and  the  hero  because  of  its 
instinct  that  from  a  single  personality  either  favor  or 
pity  can  be  more  easily  secured  than  from  a  multiple 
personality.  To  worship  one  spirit,  infinite,  eternal, 
unchangeable,  is  possible  only  to  the  most  superior 
minds,  to  the  general  he  must  be  revealed  in  a  per- 
sonality partially  finite,  so  that  finite  man  may  to 
any  extent,  even  the  smallest,  lay  hold  on  infinity. 
The  secular  analogy  in  politics  is  the  incarnation  of 
political  spirit  in  a  personal  administrator;  humanly 
speaking,  perfect  in  power  and  in  sympathy. 

Clear  and  cogent  thought  must  be  analytical. 


ITS  FORMULA  AND  TERMS  85 


The  rights  granted  by  the  state  are  universally  classi- 
fied as  civil  and  political;  these  we  define  and  secure 
by  the  common  action  of  all.  There  is  some  approach 
to  the  equal  enjoyment  of  both  by  all.  We  all  be- 
lieve what  we  wish  to  believe,  and  hence  we  speak 
of  the  democratic  spirit  as  inspiring  the  institutions 
which  secure  at  least  much  equality  of  opportunity, 
with  entire  theoretical  equality  in  litigation  and  at 
the  polls.  This  label  of  democracy  is  a  half-truth 
only:  the  inequality  of  brains  and  wealth  without 
which  even  the  state  in  embryo  is  impossible,  exhibits 
in  the  highly  developed  state  divergences  from  equal 
rights,  civil  and  political,  as  wide  as  that,  let  us  say, 
between  the  potter  and  his  clay.  Power  over- 
comes weakness,  innate  capacity  conquers  the  learned 
mediocrity  in  which  we  so  abound,  and  industry  re- 
duces the  ignorant  sluggish  mass  to  servitude — in 
spite  of  every  effort  we  put  forth  to  keep  the  dis- 
eased alive,  to  protect  the  stupid  against  the  dangers 
of  rapacity,  to  push  the  unwilling  into  virtue  by  sani- 
tation laws  or  factory  acts,  and  safeguard  the  whole 
mass  of  those  who  cannot,  against  those  who  can, 
the  canning  or  cunning:  in  spite  of  these  untiring 
efforts  the  minority  of  sagacious  or  artful  outwit  the 
inert,  easy-going  majority  at  all  points;  seize  the 
levers  of  power,  and  turn  the  very  liberties  of  the 
unsuspicious  majority  against  them,  within  the  forms 
of  a  system  of  freedom  at  that.  Nowhere  is  inequality 
more  marked  than  in  the  world's  most  stupendous 
so-called  democracy.  By  amusing  the  multitude 
with  certain  political  toys,  such  as  the  minute  sub- 
division of  powers  and  functions;  the  long,  compli- 
cated, bewildering  ballot,  and  the  clever  use  of  dema- 
gogues in  "accelerating"  public  opinion,  the  crafty 
few  twist  every  device  of  liberty  to  their  own  uses, 
frequently  noble,  but  generally  base.  Both  civil  and 
political  democracy  are,  therefore,  in  some  respects 


86 


DEMOCRACY: 


chimerical.  Its  bitterest  and  most  dangerous  en- 
emies, extreme  taxation  and  the  multipHcation  of 
impossible  duties,  grow  daily  into  a  more  and  more 
portentous  menace. 

You  may  not  often  hear  any  sort  of  human  being 
admit  inferiority,  except  the  sore-heads  in  their  pride 
of  self-depreciation.  "Who  are  you?"  "I'm  as 
good  as  you,  and  better."  "Ain't  you  stuck-up?" 
"You  didn't  come  by  it  honest."  We  could  multiply 
such  phrases  of  everyday  use  without  any  limit  but 
space.  They  imply  self-assertion;  but  the  assertion 
of  superiority,  not  of  equality.  Leaving  one  side  the 
common  clay  of  idleness,  indolence,  pleasure-seeking, 
native  dulness,  petty  intrigue,  dishonesty,  we  find 
that  the  overwhelming  passion  of  the  normal  man, 
woman,  and  child  is  for  inequality,  what  is  styled 
ambition;  to  get  more  money,  more  power,  more 
beauty,  more  charm,  more  style,  more  refinement, 
more  knowledge,  higher  social  station;  in  short  a 
greater  portion  of  desirable  things  and  qualities  than 
fall  to  the  common  lot.  Perhaps  this  list  may  be 
summed  up  in  two  phrases:  family  pride  and  social 
distinction.  All  else  is  a  means  to  these  ends;  money 
and  what  it  buys,  pedigrees  and  coat-armor,  beauty 
and  ornament,  grace  and  good-breeding,  all  excellent. 
In  a  sense  even  spiritual  appearances  have  value  only 
in  emulation,  and  in  the  exclusion  from  their  scrutiny 
of  those  who  do  not  know  the  value  and  reality  in 
them.  Exclusiveness  is  inequality,  and  ambition  is 
not  brotherhood,  nor  can  the  longing  for  superiority 
of  any  sort  be  made  to  fit  the  scheme  of  freedom. 
Thus  far  conservatism  has  flatly  refused  to  see  this 
unquestioned  truth,  or  to  study  its  eff"ects  in  the  state. 
Discussion  there  has  been  about  equal  civil  and  politi- 
cal rights,  as  if  they  were  quite  separate  categories. 
At  most  the  line  of  distinction  is  nebulous,  and  they 
blend  at  the  edges  of  their  respective  territories. 


ITS  FORMULA  AND  TERMS  87 


To  grant  equal  civil  rights  has  the  inevitable  conse- 
quence of  securing  equal  political  rights,  democracy; 
and  were  a  society  conceivable  in  which  every  adult 
exercised  the  same  rights  and  performed  the  same 
task  of  duty,  then  beyond  peradventure  follows  the 
struggle  for  uniform  social  rights,  privileges,  and 
duties.  There  would  be  a  type  dwelling,  a  uniform 
dress  and  education,  a  common  table,  a  universal 
entrance  into  every  domestic  circle,  and  compulsory 
association  in  conversation  and  talk;  in  fine,  a  mini- 
mum of  personality  and  a  maximum  of  monotony, 
of  sameness  and  equality;  spiritual  and  material. 

Latterly  the  strain  in  this  direction  has  been  very 
powerful.  Accepting  the  social  hypothesis  of  his 
origins,  the  unit,  male  and  female,  seeks  not  from 
personal  or  family  initiative,  but  from  the  state  and 
organized  society  exactly  these  social  rights  and 
duties;  protection  of  the  weak,  the  incapable,  the 
stupid,  the  indolent  against  the  able,  cunning,  and 
industrious.  Protection  of  the  weak  and  incapable 
it  is  called;  "reaping  where  you  have  not  strawed"  is 
the  reality.  The  enormous  expense  imposed  by  ex- 
isting legislation  upon  the  prudent  and  thrifty  under 
the  rubric  of  civil  expenditure  rolls  up  every  year 
into  vaster  dimensions.  What  the  governments  of 
to-day  collect  from  the  few  and  distribute  among 
the  many  would  have  terrified  our  ancestry:  old  age, 
military,  civil,  pensions;  unemployment  and  accident 
insurance,  labor  exchanges  and  social  uplift,  above 
all  the  lavish  distribution  of  that  greatest  of  luxuries, 
the  higher  education,  to  millions  whose  ambitions 
far  outrun  their  ability,  and  to  the  actually  unfit. 
There  is  no  dissent  among  teachers  of  long  experi- 
ence and  wide  observation,  but  that  from  the  gram- 
mar school  upward  the  student  ranks  should  be 
thinned  by  fifty  per  cent,  if  we  are  to  turn  our  educa- 
tional system  into  something  which  really  educates 


DEMOCRACY: 


the  whole  man:  body,  mind,  and  soul.  The  most 
pertinacious  nuisance  of  our  life  is  the  semi-educated 
proletariat,  which  also  is  really  the  most  serious 
menace  to  democracy  in  that  its  quickened  stupidity, 
its  acid,  even  vitriolic  disappointment,  detects  the 
weak  seams  of  the  system.  By  misuse  of  the  ballot 
and  platform  noisy  agitators  obtain  control,  and  op- 
press beyond  endurance  those  who  have  secured  in 
any  degree  a  kind  of  success;  in  his  efforts  to  grasp 
which  the  pedantic  agitator  with  a  stamp  of  scholar- 
ship upon  him  in  the  form  of  a  diploma  has  been 
disappointed. 

Another  menace  to  democracy,  of  a  similar  sort, 
is  the  ofifice-seeker  and  office-holder.  In  name,  public 
opinion  may  both  reign  and  rule;  the  highest  officials 
may  come  and  go,  perhaps  even  the  large  policies 
of  government  may  be  fixed  by  statesmen  called  for 
a  time  to  high  office;  but  the  administrator,  singly  or 
in  groups,  constitutes  the  real  executive.  There  must 
be  permanence  in  the  civil  service,  or  there  is  utter 
inefficiency  and  scandal.  Yet  in  that  permanence 
there  lurks  the  danger  of  tyranny.  The  frightful 
convulsions  of  war,  and  the  insidious  diseases  of  peace 
are  largely  the  unconscious  products  of  official  stag- 
nation. Offices  are  not  paid  in  money;  if  the  salary 
were  all,  the  men  who  hold  them  would  be  elsewhere; 
the  main  inducement  is  largely  permanence,  and  more 
largely  honor.  It  is  a  common  occurrence  for  a 
practising  lawyer  earning  large  fees  to  accept  a  judge- 
ship with  a  third  of  the  income,  for  honor's  sake; 
indeed  the  professions,  one  and  all,  assert  a  pre- 
eminence over  other  occupations,  because  of  their 
honorability.  The  policeman  is  the  fountain  of  jus- 
tice, security,  and  honor  to  millions,  and  his  carriage, 
his  air,  his  demeanor  show  that  he  is  aware  of  the 
fact.  Between  the  turnkey  and  the  President  are 
all  socio-political  gradations,  but  they  are  gradations, 


ITS  FORMULA  AND  TERMS  89 


and  constitute  a  hierarchy  that  knows  little  of  equal- 
ity, fraternity,  liberty,  or  even  of  government  by 
public  opinion.  Every  member  must  act  within  the 
law,  but  however  minute  the  provisions  of  the  law 
may  be,  they  cannot  cover  the  multitudinous  details 
which  afford  to  every  office-holder  his  opportunity 
for  a  greater  or  less  degree  of  arbitrary  rule.  My 
house  and  lot  is  assessed  and  taxed  at  a  value  for 
which  I  could  not  possibly  sell  it.  I  appeal,  and  the 
reply  is  that  even  if  my  contention  be  true,  there  is 
no  remedy  except  such  as  would  make  a  total  change 
in  all  surrounding  values,  which  is  utterly  impos- 
sible. And  so  I  am  oppressed,  not  by  the  law,  or 
by  public  opinion,  but  by  the  arbitrary  stand  of 
officials,  distracted  by  the  demands  of  higher  officials 
for  the  largest  tax  returns  in  order  to  meet  the  in- 
creasing outgo  of  the  state  in  salaries  and  civic  ex- 
penditures for  safeguarding  certain  classes  against 
the  consequences  of  their  own  behavior.  As  yet  we 
have  no  permanent  bureaucracy  in  the  French,  Ger- 
man, or  Russian  sense,  but  there  are  symptoms  which 
indicate  an  embryo  of  one,  in  our  reformed  civil  ser- 
vice. The  Europe  of  191 5  was  an  awful  example  of 
what  bureaucracies  acting  "efficiently  and  promptly" 
can  do  in  the  very  face  of  public  opinion,  speciously 
proclaiming  a  crusade  for  life  itself,  the  life  namely 
of  a  ruling  class,  drawn  from  every  rank,  desperately 
set  to  maintain  its  power,  its  permanence,  and  the 
honor  of  its  political  notability. 

This  is  what  makes  politics  the  business  of  so  many, 
engenders  the  class  of  "poUtocrats,"  and  creates  the 
importunate,  presumptuous,  and  haughty  society  of 
our  capital  city,  a  society  of  public  functionaries  the 
most  ludicrously  stratified  of  any:  London,  Berlin,  and 
Petrograd  could  exhibit  nothing  more  complete.  It 
is  a  stage  on  which  both  sexes  cringe,  fawn,  and  bully 
for  favor  and  "pull."    Parallel  with  the  "politoc- 


90 


DEMOCRACY: 


racy"  are  the  effulgent  plutocracy,  and  the  ostenta- 
tious so-called  aristocracy,  those  whose  pretensions 
rest  on  wealth,  and  those  whose  pretensions  rest  on 
birth.  Both  are  exclusive  and  self-satisfied,  both 
have  in  high  degree  what  the  majority  has  not,  and 
both  perpetuate  themselves  by  the  training  and  inter- 
marriage of  their  offspring.  At  times  they  blend, 
but  in  the  main,  money  marries  money,  and  family 
allies  itself  with  family.  After  some  generations  of 
money-power,  its  possessors  secure  refinement  and 
style,  and  the  division  of  fortunes  assimilates  one  to 
the  other.  Socially  the  "politocrats"  meet  with  very 
modest  success,  as  far  as  the  "tip-tops"  go,  except 
perhaps  in  Washington,  and  the  State  capitals,  where 
they  are  courted  for  their  power;  and,  totally  ignorant 
of  social  conventions,  they  are  found,  the  males  at 
least,  amid  scenes  where  they  shine  neither  by  felicity 
of  manner  nor  of  garb. 

They  do  not  seem,  however,  to  suffer  from  envy, 
malice,  or  hatred.  Like  good  merchants  they  treat 
their  customers  with  consideration.  The  little  boss 
is  also  placid  and  content  socially;  the  possession  of 
power  is  its  own  exceeding  great  reward ;  in  the  coun- 
try store,  at  the  bar  of  the  tavern,  or  on  the  shady 
porch  of  the  farm-house.  Democracy  in  the  accepted 
definition  of  government  by  public  opinion  could  not 
be  said  to  find  its  most  shining  example  among  such 
men.  While  social  inequality  breeds  rancor  and  spite 
among  other  disappointed  aspirants,  it  is  good- 
humoredly  accepted  by  such  as  these.  Elegant  pre- 
eminence in  bower  and  hall  may  be  the  far  distant 
goal  of  much  the  largest  number  of  shrewd,  earnest, 
intelligent  and  busy  men,  but  its  remoteness  makes 
it  a  distant  scene,  aad  daily  gains  for  daily  necessi- 
ties are  the  matter  of  immediate  concern.  "Too 
busy  for  politics"  is  the  mild  rejoinder  of  millions 
who  consider  themselves  good  citizens,  and  shirk 


ITS  FORMULA  AND  TERMS  91 

alike  the  exercise  of  political  rights  and  the  per- 
formance of  political  duties.  They  will  not  accept 
and  carry  the  burden  of  democracy.  They  will  and 
do  accept  the  behests  and  war-cries  of  their  party 
leaders,  the  selfish  "  politocrats " ;  without  compre- 
hension of  or  concern  for,  the  social  drift,  except  as 
it  touches  their  balance-sheet,  if  they  have  any.  A 
great  judge  and  prominent  citizen,  when  urged  by 
the  writer  to  give  a  reason  for  his  party  loyalty,  said 
simply:  "When  my  party  is  in  power,  the  country  is 
prosperous,  otherwise  it  is  not,"  and  declined  all 
further  talk.  He  had  no  time  for  economics,  or  for- 
eign relations,  or  the  quality  of  his  rulers.  That  was 
the  affair  of  others,  his  was  the  law. 

These  are  the  considerations  which  explain  the 
chameleon-like  hues  of  democracy.  Inequality  of 
representation,  of  justice  under  the  law,  of  social 
rank,  of  resources,  of  education:  these  find  their 
explanation  even  under  social  democracy,  not  merely 
because  men  are  born  unequal  in  ability,  but  because 
of  their  widely  differing  temperaments  and  aptitudes 
in  particular,  and  above  all  else  in  their  tastes.  This, 
of  course,  is  an  admirable  state  of  things,  not  because 
it  is,  but  because  it  effectively  prevents  stagnation. 
Life  is  interchange,  giving  and  taking,  sharpening  wits 
by  discussion.  We  must,  however,  dispassionately 
consider  that  in  all  these  truths  there  is  no  democracy 
in  the  sense  of  equality,  fraternity,  or  liberty  as  we 
use  the  terms.  True  democracy  is  a  state  of  mind, 
common  only  to  the  intelligent. 


VII 


DEMOCRACY:  THE  FOES  IN  ITS  HOUSEHOLD 

PASSION   FOR   EXPANSION  OF   DOMESTIC   RIGHTS  JEOPARDIZES  DEMOC- 
RACY— OVERTHROW  OF  CHURCH  AUTHORITY  BY  RIGHT  OF  FREE  THOUGHT 

 FALSE  EMPHASIS  ON  RIGHTS;  DUTIES  FORGOTTEN,  RULERS  DESPISED 

 DEMOCRATIC  STATE  OF  MIND  TENDS  TO  RETARD  PROMPT  ADMINISTRA- 
TION— RESORT  TO  DISCIPLINE  AND  DICTATORSHIP  IN  CRISES — TYRANNY 
AND  OLIGARCHY  IN  DEMOCRACIES;  SPARTA,  GERMANY,  UNITED  STATES 
— INDICTMENTS  OF  AMERICAN  DEMOCRACY;  BRENTANO  AND  OSTRO- 
GORSKY — THE  DEMOCRATIC  STATE  OF  MIND  IN  GERMANY — EXTERNAL 
FORCES  MOULD  CONTINENTAL  DEMOCRACY — SOCIAL  DEMOCRACY  IN 
GERMANY  MISNAMED;  WANTS  SHARE  IN  GOVERNMENT — DEMOCRACY  IN 
RUSSIA,  THE  ORIENT,  AND  MEDITERRANEAN  LANDS — FRENCH  DEMOC- 
RACY CENTRALIZED  AND  IMPERLALISTIC. 

The  democratic  state  of  mind,  the  desire  to  equalize 
all  mankind,  for  after  all  democracy  is  that,  and  that 
alone,  doubtless  underlies  even  the  numerous  influ- 
ences which  appear  so  bitterly  hostile  to  the  prac- 
tical working  of  democracy  in  politics  and  society, 
and  which  are  everywhere  in  evidence.  If  science 
indicates,  as  it  does,  the  social  origin  of  man,  humanity 
arising  in  the  family  group  in  some  form,  and  if,  in 
the  laborious  process  of  evolution,  the  monogamous 
family  is  our  highest  achievement  and  our  most 
precious  institution,  why  the  wide-spread  spirit  of 
rebellion  in  the  family  ?  Why  the  assertion  of  newer 
rights  and  duties  for  wives,  husbands,  and  children, 
hitherto  unconsidered  ?  The  child  is  by  nature  pre- 
cocious, imperious,  self-conscious,  and  self-centred; 
the  husband  is  disciplined  by  his  wife,  the  wife  by 
her  husband,  both  by  their  children,  the  brother  by 
his  sister,  authority  and  repression  proceed  from  be- 
low upward. 

None  but  the  blind  refuses  to  see  the  levelling  in- 
fluences at  work  in  the  family.    Power  as  a  bread- 

92 


THE  FOES  IN  ITS  HOUSEHOLD  93 


winner  and  a  fortune-builder  with  few  exceptions, 
still  resides  where  it  always  did,  but  the  will  to  exer- 
cise it  is  enfeebled  by  feminine  and  infantile  defiance 
and  arrogance.  All  parties  to  the  family  organiza- 
tion have  the  democratic  state  of  mind,  importunacy 
on  one  side,  submission  on  the  other.  The  opulent 
know  the  danger  to  their  offspring  of  indulgence,  but 
indulgence  is  the  easiest  way;  the  poor  fully  realize 
the  dangers  which  beset  the  emancipation  of  their 
children,  but  again  feebleness  wins  the  day.  Both 
forget  the  fact  that  the  fit  survivor  is  the  fittest, 
while  the  unfit  likewise  survive  as  the  unfittest.  The 
mass  of  sorrow  and  disease  and  crime  is  just  as  per- 
sistent in  the  demand  for  being  and  surviving,  as  the 
elect  are  for  opportunity  to  be  elect.  There  is  in  the 
family  the  never-ending  antinomy  of  weakness  and 
strength,  the  levelling  to  equivalence  of  producer  and 
consumer. 

This  same  state  of  mind  is  further  manifest  in  the 
church,  no  matter  how  comprehensively  we  use  the 
term.  To  assert  authority  in  any  theocratic  form 
has  become  impossible,  even  in  the  Roman  and  Greek 
Churches,  Centuries  ago  the  learned  doctors  were 
divided  as  to  the  source  of  papal  authority,  whether 
it  came  direct  from  on  high,  or  through  the  people  as 
expressing  the  divine  will.  To-day,  whether  profess- 
edly or  not,  the  latter  conviction  prevails,  and  never 
have  the  laity  so  moulded  the  precedence  of  the  hier- 
archy :  state  after  state  has  sundered  its  interdepend- 
ent relation  with  organized  Christianity  in  any  form; 
even  the  age  of  Concordats  has  passed.  It  is  only 
by  indirection  and  by  popular  agitation  that  any 
kind  of  sectarianism  controls  state-action.  The  in- 
ternal affairs  of  the  Protestant  denominations  are 
partly  managed,  and  ultimately  controlled,  by  the 
laity,  with  the  equal  suffrage  of  men  and  women,  the 
latter  being  fully  as  influential  as  the  former.  There 


94 


DEMOCRACY: 


remains,  to  some  extent,  the  outward  form  of  medi- 
aeval or  early  modern  institution,  there  still  exist 
church  courts  of  higher  or  lower  instance,  the  clerical 
garb  and  vestment,  the  survivals  of  ritual;  but  re- 
spect for  them  is  confined  either  to  the  majority  of 
the  devout,  or  to  the  historically  minded,  who  find 
some  kind  of  ecclesiastical  order  indispensable  to  the 
existing  social  order. 

Ultra-radical  iconoclasts  link  the  family  and  the 
ecclesiastical  establishment  as  really  a  single  anti- 
quated institution.  Christianity  has  always  claimed 
to  be,  and  is  primordially,  democratic,  since  it  draws 
no  distinction  as  to  the  value  of  souls  to  be  saved 
from  damnation.  Yet  inasmuch  as  Christians  are 
human  they  have  ordered  their  organization  on  the 
fallible  basis  of  the  political  models  successively  in 
vogue,  monarchical,  feudal,  aristocratic;  and  only 
initially  has  it  been  democratic.  The  priest  of  hum- 
blest origin  could  become  a  pope,  but  the  apostolic 
grace  once  conveyed,  a  privileged  order,  however  self- 
denying  or  self-sacrificing,  was  permanently  consti- 
tuted; permanent,  with  the  rarest  exceptions,  in  the 
life  that  is.  Liberty  of  thought  and  speech  in  a 
divine-right  church  have  been  as  precarious  as  in  a 
tyrannical  state,  to  be  exercised  only  at  the  price  of 
excommunication  and  outlawry.  Yet  in  spite  of 
every  trammel  there  has  been  a  steady  and  victorious 
onslaught  against  hierarchy  of  any  sort  in  religious 
organization,  until  there  is  now  just  as  near  an  ap- 
proach to  direct  democracy  within  its  various  forms 
of  organization  as  there  is  anywhere  in  politics  and 
society.  The  general  state  of  mind  ecclesiastically 
is  exactly  what  it  is  politically  or  socially. 

Any  association  of  individuals  with  an  element  of 
permanency  in  it  produces  a  new  person,  behaving 
quite  differently  from  any  one  of  its  composites. 
Male  and  female  make  the  man,  by  marriage;  this 


THE  FOES  IN  ITS  HOUSEHOLD  95 


man  with  offspring  makes  the  family;  neither  the 
composite  man  nor  the  family  behaves  as  did,  or 
could,  the  component  individuals.  There  is  a  paral- 
lel in  business;  however  despotic  the  senior  partner 
or  director  may  be,  firms,  corporations,  and  trusts 
behave  according  to  a  collective  will.  It  has  been 
said  that  every  committee  of  three  should  have  a 
valetudinarian  and  an  absentee  member;  even  in 
that  case  the  one  active  present  member  is  influenced 
by  what  he  opines  to  be  the  feeling  of  his  colleagues. 
Masterful  as  may  be  ecclesiastical  officials,  they  feel 
the  categorical  imperative  of  the  representative  bodies 
from  which  they  derive  their  authority. 

No  one  denies  personality  to  the  state,  but  floods 
of  controversy  rage  concerning  its  degree  and  com- 
petence. The  democratic  state  of  mind  is  universal 
in  the  modern  nation.  The  state  is  by  most  living 
thinkers  considered  to  rest  for  its  authority  on  the 
reciprocal  rights  and  duties  of  all  its  citizens  or  sub- 
jects, a  secular  form  for  the  golden  rule  of  Christi- 
anity, except  that  the  emphasis  on  rights  sadly  dis- 
torts it.  The  duty  element  of  the  moral  law,  duty  to 
God,  duty  to  neighbor,  is  almost  eclipsed  by  the 
iterative  cicada-like  assertion  of  rights  as  against 
both  God  and  man:  at  the  best,  duty  is  not  exactly 
a  fashionable  propulsion  for  conduct  in  the  serious 
thought  of  modern  democrats.  What  they  demand 
is  equal  rights  and  "social  justice."  It  is  an  obvious 
falsehood  that  all  men  are  equal,  but  it  is  an  equally 
obvious  truth  that  every  man  has  a  high  degree  of 
value,  so  high  that  he  may  not  be  degraded  to  the 
state  of  a  mere  tool;  that  no  man,  however  great  and 
good,  may  exercise  uncontrolled  sway  over  others, 
even  if  he  derives  his  authority  from  the  multitude. 
If  there  is  to  be  sacrifice  for  any  cause  whatsoever, 
the  victim  must  be  self-immolated. 

The  democratic  state  of  mind  in  politics  would 


96 


DEMOCRACY: 


minimize  the  personality  of  the  state  almost  to  ex- 
tinction, on  the  ground  that  rulers,  being  individuals, 
may  think  and  will  as  rulers,  but  dare  not  indulge  in 
political  emotion.  In  their  sphere  of  action  under 
the  law  they  may  exercise  no  private  virtue,  they  have 
no  authority  for  the  practice  of  love  or  generosity  or 
magnanimity  in  statesmanship;  they  may  not  exact 
blind  obedience  from  everyone,  nor  commit  the  state 
to  any  policy  in  peace  or  war  without  an  opportunity 
for  public  discussion;  without  a  chance  for  the  in- 
dividual to  exercise  his  choice,  to  decide  as  to  which 
is  his  higher  obligation,  to  the  state  as  expressed  in 
government,  or  to  conscience  as  prompting  his  duty 
to  family  or  to  business,  or  to  the  church.  The 
payment  of  taxes  is  a  free-will  offering;  so  too  is 
military  service.  The  state  has  no  conscience,  and 
the  conscience  of  each  citizen  is  alone  operative  in 
the  contrivance  of  general  policies. 

But  what  about  crises,  which,  internal  or  external, 
threaten  the  public  order  or  menace  the  equitable 
relations  of  states  to  each  other?  Obviously  there 
can  be  in  an  acute  crisis  no  plebiscite,  and  no  resultant 
action  sufficiently  prompt  to  secure  self-preservation 
and  self-respect.  The  democratic  state  of  mind  de- 
mands for  its  free  play  a  profound  peace  and  pro- 
longed meditation,  the  banishment  of  passion  and  all 
other  human  frailty  from  the  scene.  Its  supreme 
renunciation  is  to  suspend  itself  during  critical  mo- 
ments which  threaten  disaster  to  all  national  order. 
It  is  the  habit  of  Utopians  roundly  to  abuse  nationality 
as  utterly  harmful  to  human  progress,  in  that  nobody 
can  define  it:  it  engenders  rivalry  and  hate,  and  mil- 
lions have  perished  in  the  defense  of  a  mere  vision. 
Yet  the  spirit  of  democracy  would  find  no  embodi- 
ment were  it  not  for  nationality.  In  its  alembic, 
mysterious  as  is  the  alchemy  of  politics,  it  is  the  zeal 
for  nationality  which  stills  embittered  party  strife, 


THE  FOES  IN  ITS  HOUSEHOLD  97 


which  feeds  new  personalities  into  the  hopper  of  ad- 
ministration, which  sloughs  off  antiquated  function- 
aries, and,  in  changing  the  personnel  of  government, 
shifts  the  seat  of  sovereignty.  To  trust  officials  is 
dangerous,  to  measure  their  merit  by  efficiency  even 
more  so,  because  confidence  and  capability  lead  to 
permanency  and  the  worship  of  embodied  authority, 
and  such  worth  as  there  is  in  the  average  man  finds 
no  room  for  its  play. 

Even  the  man  of  principles  is  a  suspicious  person, 
because  fixed  principle  is  hostile  to  that  flux  of  new 
measures  and  new  men  essential  to  democracy.  The 
very  word  "standard"  implies  etymologically  some- 
thing fixed  and  hostile  to  mutation.  True  democracy 
can  tolerate  nothing  standard.  The  denial  that  men 
are  stratified  according  to  their  powers  implies  an 
imperious  necessity  to  give  every  male  and  female 
a  chance  to  improve  or  debase  the  existing  social 
order  as  his  or  her  activity  may  affect  it.  Officials 
there  must  be,  and  in  some  fashion  they  must  be 
chosen  and  entrusted  with  power,  but  normally  they 
must  be  held  to  a  responsibility  of  superhuman  per- 
fection, posted  for  every  deficiency,  distrusted  and 
continuously  supplanted  to  make  way  for  others. 
Democracy  demands  no  class  of  trained,  skilful,  per- 
manent bureaucrats:  it  prefers  the  imperfection  of 
neophytes  as  the  pretext  for  perpetual  rotation.  In 
this  way  the  exceptional  man  comes  to  his  own  only 
for  a  brief  span,  while  the  hydra-headed  majority 
reverts  to  the  general  level.  A  short  renown  must 
suffice  for  even  the  greatest  and  the  wisest. 

But  what  about  the  crisis,  the  menace  to  essential 
nationality  ?  The  men  of  consummate  tact,  of  wise 
counsel,  of  commanding  power,  meteor-like  as  was 
their  transit  across  the  political  sky,  can  again  be 
found  among  the  ranks  of  those  who  have  been  tried 
out,  and  have  returned,  either  voluntarily  or  invol- 


98 


DEMOCRACY: 


untarily,  to  the  plough.  For  the  emergency  their  ser- 
vices must  be  secured ;  and,  for  the  crisis,  to  them  with 
a  minimum  of  popular  control  must  be  entrusted  the 
saving  of  the  state.  The  notion  is  simple  enough, 
and  the  plan  sometimes  works.  But  with  what  sacri- 
fice of  time,  what  waste  of  life  and  money,  what  need- 
less expenditure  of  energy  in  securing  discipline  and 
cooling  the  passion  of  mobs  disturbed  in  their  leth- 
argy, and  wedded  to  their  idols  of  luxury,  timidity, 
and  stagnation !  Moreover,  the  awful  spectre  of 
Caesarism  is  evoked,  of  a  temporary  absolutism  made 
permanent,  of  a  willing  bondage  turned  into  repug- 
nant slavery.  This  rather  appalling  truth  is  admitted 
by  us  all,  by  the  most  lukewarm  as  well  as  by  the 
most  ardent  democrats. 

The  game,  moreover,  is  worth  the  candle,  in  the 
opinion  of  every  English-speaking  person  who  has 
given  attention  to  the  matter.  There  was  exactly 
the  same  feeling  in  the  pseudo-democracies  of  ancient 
Greece,  all  of  which  were  occupied  in  the  tyrannical 
repression  of  numerous  freed  men,  slaves  and  strangers 
by  the  smaller  number  of  privileged  freemen,  styling 
themselves  what  they  were  not,  in  any  sense:  demo- 
crats; enabled,  however,  to  give  most  of  their  time 
and  energy  to  ruling  and  fighting  by  the  fortunes 
wrung  from  unremunerated  labor.  Sparta  was  syn- 
onymous with  rigid  discipline,  self-denial  in  the  ser- 
vice of  the  state,  and  the  pitiless  logic  of  facts.  In 
force  and  in  statecraft  it  surpassed  Athens  and  over- 
whelmed her,  because  of  discipline  and  unified  ability. 
Yet  Pericles  boasted  the  Athenian  preference  for  ease 
during  peace,  for  intellectual  exercise  without  physi- 
cal weariness  and  declared  truthfully  enough,  that 
the  Athenian  was  none  the  less  brave  in  peril;  brave 
with  a  courage  gained  by  habit  and  not  by  law. 
Enjoying  the  arts  of  peace,  living  without  the  con- 
stant uneasy  anticipation  of  pain,  loving  the  beautiful, 


THE  FOES  IN  ITS  HOUSEHOLD 


simple  in  tastes,  cultivating  the  mind,  the  Athenian 
was  a  model  citizen,  as  he  saw  himself:  but  in  the 
final  and  desperate  struggle  his  symmetrical  manli- 
ness was  of  no  avail  against  mechanical  discipline. 
The  decline  of  Athens  was,  nevertheless,  of  more 
moral  value  than  the  rise  of  Sparta,  both  then  and 
ever  since.  Lost  causes  of  such  sort  have  in  them 
the  germs  of  immortality. 

Sparta  was,  excluding  its  aliens  and  helots,  an 
even  purer  democracy  than  Athens.  Democracy  is, 
therefore,  not  necessarily  a  panacea  for  tyranny. 
When  after  the  Reform  Bill  of  1832,  a  British  Parlia- 
ment, representative  of  the  middle  as  well  as  of  the 
upper  classes,  destroyed  the  self-perpetuating  munici- 
pal corporations,  it  cured  many  privileged  abuses,  but 
it  likewise,  as  in  the  case  of  Liverpool,  overthrew  many 
admirable  city  governments.  What  cures  in  some 
societies  poisons  in  others.  The  generalizations  of 
politics  are  a  menace  to  democracy.  Common  de- 
cency compels  those  of  us  who  are  saturated  with 
the  democratic  state  of  mind  to  hear  the  other  side. 
Among  great  German  economists  the  United  States 
had  in  Gustav  von  Schmoller  and  Lujo  Brentano  two 
friendly  critics,  who  are  likewise  doughty  German 
patriots.  It  is  not  easy  to  explain  the  American  con- 
cept of  freedom  and  liberty  to  such  profound  think- 
ers. Our  phrases,  like  those  of  the  British  Liberals, 
ring  hollow  to  them  because  we  overlook  what  they 
consider  basic,  a  collective  temperament  and  genius 
arising  from  long  common  historical  experience.  For 
a  German,  liberty  means  the  possibility  of  being  a 
type-German,  not  a  whimsical  individual.  Together 
the  common  stock  has  experienced  successive  politi- 
cal phases;  the  servitude  of  foreign  rule,  the  com- 
bativeness  of  parts  in  a  splintered  unit,  the  partic- 
ularism of  semi-feudal  social  hierarchies,  a  petty  state 
system  distracted  by  fiercely  antagonistic  interests, 


100 


DEMOCRACY: 


the  rise  of  one  among  these  to  indisputable  hegemony 
as  a  military,  bureaucratic  monarchy,  the  unification 
of  all  except  Austria  into  a  federal,  but  still  military- 
bureaucratic  empire,  and  the  gigantic  struggle  of  this 
empire  to  maintain  itself  by  peaceful  penetration  of 
backward  lands,  in  securing  commercial,  industrial, 
and  colonial  expansion,  a  policy  professedly  copied 
from  our  own  method  of  increment  and  development. 
The  result  of  creating  a  Germany  has  been  to  create 
Germans;  Prussian,  Bavarian,  Saxon,  all  are  Germans, 
each  retaining  a  local  character  which  is  just  as  sub- 
sidiary to  the  general  as  the  various  local  characters 
of  England  or  America,  or  even  France.  From  all 
these  they  have  appropriated  the  rudimentary  notion 
of  liberty:  opportunity  to  be  German  as  others  want 
liberty  to  be  English,  American,  or  French.  The 
entire  population  of  the  empire  behaved  throughout 
the  great  war  of  1914-18,  not  as  particularists,  but  as 
Germans,  and  reconstruction  of  the  nation,  what- 
ever its  ultimate  form,  finds  them  working  and  feeling 
as  such. 

Something  more  they  have  likewise  appropriated, 
a  goodly  portion  of  the  democratic  state  of  mind, 
and  a  still  goodlier  portion  of  disdain  for  the  total 
failure  of  the  western  world  to  secure  the  realization 
of  democracy.  Brentano  has,  as  far  as  known  to 
the  writer,  reserved  his  machine-gun  fire  of  details 
for  books  still  to  be  written,  but  in  his  quizzical  con- 
versation the  pepper-shot  rattle  pitilessly  against  the 
opponent's  shield,  and  sometimes  penetrate.  He  is 
far  more  radical  than  the  Berlin  scholar,  and  a  per- 
sonage not  entirely  in  favor  with  conservatives.  But 
a  passage  from  Schmoller  summarizes  the  thought  of 
both.  "Germany  would  have  experienced  the  fate 
of  Poland,  had  not  the  type  of  military,  and  bureau- 
cratic state  asserted  itself  in  the  conquest  of  feudal 
nobility  as  rulers,  and  overwhelmed  the  States  of  the 


THE  FOES  IN  ITS  HOUSEHOLD  loi 


Estates.  If  some  or  many  German  states  in  1830 
or  1848,  or  even  later,  had  trodden  the  path  of  Swiss 
democracy,  the  petty  cantonal  spirit  would  have  been 
victorious  here.  We  (the  Germans)  had  never  secured 
our  union.  Did  we  not  possess  the  aristocracy  of 
our  dutiful  civil  servants,  and  our  incomparable 
officer  class,  we  would  have  had  an  imperious  plutoc- 
racy such  as  reigns  and  rules  all  over  England,  France, 
and  the  United  States."  To  such  men  the  quality 
of  candor  must  be  allowed,  and  granting  that  their 
convictions  are  dispassionate,  it  is  strange  that  those 
with  a  democratic  state  of  mind  declare  that  they 
want  a  liberty  quite  different  from  ours,  that  their 
liberty  must  be  evolved  from  their  own  conditions, 
and  must  not  be  forced  upon  them  by  the  yoke  of 
conquest.  The  beginnings  of,their  peculiar  democracy 
they  see  in  manhood  suffrage  for  the  imperial  con- 
gress, in  the  common  school,  in  the  national  army,  in 
the  common  civil  law  and  the  independence  of  com- 
merce, manufactures,  and  trade:  enormous  gains 
already  secured,  as  they  believed,  in  permanence. 

For  thoughtful  Americans  the  presumption  is  that 
as  such  we  do  not  really  wish  to  hold  opinions  not 
based  on  evidence,  and  will  not  refuse  to  accept  facts 
however  distasteful  which  are  based  on  evidence. 
The  essence  of  wisdom  is  a  desire  not  to  reprobate, 
but  to  understand.  Human  emotions,  love,  hatred, 
envy  and  ambition,  are  not  vices  but  integral  parts 
of  human  nature,  its  very  properties.  Now  there  are 
about  ninety  million  German-speaking  men  who  see 
the  precious  stone  of  liberty  from  a  facet,  or  facets, 
quite  different  from  those  on  which  we  gaze  entranced, 
and  they  must  be  reckoned  with ;  to  be  reckoned  with 
they  must  be  understood.  For  them  militarism  is 
not  a  fetich  at  all.  Indeed  it  would  not  be  one  for 
us  if  it  were  our  own.  It  is  extremely  doubtful  if 
there  be  to-day  anywhere  on  earth  a  military  caste, 


102 


DEMOCRACY: 


except  as  we  understand  the  word  when  we  speak  of 
social  caste:  certainly  for  the  sauntering  traveller 
throughout  the  German  empire  there  was  no  offensive 
evidence  of  it  whatever  in  that  or  any  other  sense. 
The  tramp  of  recruits,  the  music  of  bands,  the  occa- 
sional uniform  of  an  officer  or  soldier  on  the  streets, 
these  were  in  themselves  no  more  offensive  than  the 
ubiquitous  and  supercilious  police  of  that  and  other 
countries.  And  as  for  caste  insolence,  the  foreigners 
who  visit  us  and  Great  Britain,  or  other  western 
lands,  never  weary  of  parading  the  wounds  to  pride 
which  they  receive  from  the  haughty  condescension 
of  many  types,  snobs  and  snobinettes,  within  our 
French  and  Anglo-Saxon  lands,  especially  the  exclu- 
sive, disdainful,  plutocratic  snobs.  The  patron  and 
the  sycophant  are  everywhere,  and  they  are  in  Ger- 
many; self-sufficiency  is  everywhere,  and  Germans 
abound  in  it,  overlaying  it  also  with  an  exasperating 
touchiness.  But  no  people  has  a  monopoly  of  such 
weaknesses.  Bravado  generally  masks  timidity,  some- 
times even  humility,  even  in  a  Hohenzollern.  The 
object  of  these  remarks  is  to  clear  the  way  for  an 
examination  in  outline  of  the  German  state  and  its 
relation  to  democracy,  a  state  which  in  a  way  is  the 
antipodes  of  ours,  but  animated  for  all  that  by  an 
identical  democratic  state  of  mind. 

Democracy  professes  external  pacifism  for  the  sake 
of  internal  conflict.  For  us  the  state  has  a  limited 
personality,  but  we  emphasize  the  natural  personality 
of  the  men  who  exercise  its  power,  and  minimize  the 
artificial  personality  resulting  from  the  participation, 
however  slight,  of  all  the  parts  in  the  whole.  Who- 
ever has  the  most  rudimentary  acquaintance  with 
German  history  and  temperament  knows  that  no 
stock  has  exhibited  this  disposition  more  disastrously 
than  they.  Separatism,  paternalism,  individualism 
■ — whatever  "ism"  connotes  centrifugal  force  in  so- 


THE  FOES  IN  ITS  HOUSEHOLD  103 


ciety — has  been  their  bane  and,  fifty  years  since,  they 
were  a  century  behind  in  the  race  for  what  our  mixed 
peoples  styled  civilization. 

From  the  misty  traditions  of  Mancocapac,  and 
Triptolemus,  through  the  renaissance,  down  to  the 
latest  hour,  the  stimulus  of  peoples  and  persons  to 
revolution  or  reform  has  come  mysteriously  from 
without,  utterly  transforming  innate  tendencies  and 
creating  a  third  something  totally  different  from  the 
double  sources.  What  a  universe  of  difference  be- 
tween Greco-Roman  classicism  and  the  literature  or 
art  of  the  renaissance  !  Kant  declared  that  it  was 
from  Rousseau  he  learned  to  measure  men,  not  by 
their  knowledge,  but  by  their  moral  virtue;  yet,  as 
is  justly  emphasized  in  these  days,  how  different  is 
the  categorical  imperative  of  the  former  from  the 
sentimentalism  of  the  latter.  The  kingdom  of  Prussia 
was  inaugurated  in  Kant's  city,  the  transformation  of 
German  thought  originated  in  Kant's  dictum.  But 
the  tendency  of  both  was  conditioned  from  without. 

The  horrors  of  Napoleonic  conquest  created  the 
German  empire.  It  was  borne  in  on  all  Germans 
that  only  within  a  German  state,  strong  to  keep  the 
stranger  at  bay,  able  to  control  its  own  foreign  re- 
lations by  land  and  sea,  could  Germans  find  liberty. 
So  far  their  historical  experience  was  nowise  different 
from  that  of  other  peoples:  what  was  different  was 
the  emphasis  they  placed  on  the  personality  of  the 
state,  a  person  not  to  be  bound  and  checked  as  else- 
where, but  a  person  whose  personality  was  to  be  the 
resultant  of  all  German  effort,  and  therefore  unifying 
not  merely  the  politics  and  power  of  its  parts,  but 
embracing  their  philosophy  and  their  fine  arts.  It 
was  the  deliberate  surrender  of  the  popular  democratic 
will  which,  after  terrible  struggles  and  spasmodic 
purges  in  1830,  1848,  1861,  and  1870,  resulted  in  com- 
mitting the  well  understood  task  of  creating  a  closed 


104 


DEMOCRACY: 


German  state,  not  to  the  inefficient,  quarrelsome 
burghers,  but  to  the  princes,  under  some  popular 
regulation,  perhaps,  but  at  best  a  very  incomplete 
control.    Nothing  was  to  hamper  the  work. 

For  considerably  more  than  a  generation  of  men 
the  work  of  disciplining  the  democracy  of  1848  went 
forward  under  state  guidance,  until  from  the  revolu- 
tionary movement  of  Marxism  there  sprang  the  con- 
stitutional agitation  of  what  is  totally  misnamed 
social  democracy.  Democracy  it  is,  but  a  keen  and 
discerning  one,  historically  trained  to  realize  that 
without  the  forward  strides  of  the  empire  there  would 
have  been  a  relapse  into  the  old  social  division,  and 
into  the  old  stagnation  of  industry  and  trade.  Hence 
when  war  breaks  out  the  patriotism  of  the  party  is 
second  to  that  of  no  other.  The  bureaucracy  of 
Germany  has  long  been  aware  that  the  socialism  of 
the  social-democrats  was  but  a  veneer,  the  great  or- 
ganization has  been  making  its  enormous  strides,  not 
as  a  socialistic  or  even  a  labor  party,  but  because  it 
is  solidly  democratic.  What  its  leaders  and  mem- 
bers want,  what  in  a  small  and  unsatisfactory  degree 
they  had  secured  before  the  war,  what  in  full  propor- 
tion they  will  get  after  the  war,  is  a  share,  not  alone 
as  now  in  the  burdens  of  government,  but  in  its 
honors  and  emoluments. 

Under  the  constitution  of  the  empire  the  imperial 
parliament  was  a  debating  club  as  was  the  short- 
lived Russian  Duma:  but  it  was  becoming  something 
more.  The  chancellor  was  to  some  degree  the  whipping 
boy  of  the  Emperor,  but  he  too  was  more  than  his 
office,  because  he  paid  with  his  official  head  for  the 
grave  blunders  of  the  executive.  What  the  enormous 
body  of  German  democrats  demands  is  that  a  respon- 
sible ministry  shall  inaugurate  and  carry  legisla- 
tion, nominally  at  least,  as  at  Westminster,  and  that 
the  great  responsible  offices  of  the  state,  the  plates 


THE  FOES  IN  ITS  HOUSEHOLD  105 


rich  in  emolument  and  honor,  shall  be  open  to  them 
as  in  France.  Nowhere  else  does  the  common  school 
play  such  a  r6le  as  in  Germany,  and  the  degree  of 
education  which  it  gives  is  quite  sufficient  to  make 
the  plain  folk  keenly  alive  to  the  deficiencies  of  both 
forms  of  free  government :  the  parliamentary  and  the 
congressional.  They  are  not  collectivists  in  any  sense 
but  one:  they  want  their  political  hierarchy  to  be 
fluid  and  careers  in  politics,  as  they  are  already  in 
all  other  activities,  to  be  open  to  all  the  talents. 

They  are  not  shy  of  discipline,  nor  of  subordination, 
nor  of  the  law,  nor  of  public  servants,  as  we  are; 
on  the  contrary,  they  would  be  wretched  without  them 
all,  without  the  sense  of  safe  guidance.  They  know 
that  discipline  and  efficiency  are  complementary, 
but  they  demand  the  restraint  of  those  who  discipline 
proportionate  to  the  will-surrender  of  those  who  are 
disciplined.  All  other  German  parties  are  political 
sects,  within  a  hierarchy;  the  democratic  party,  now 
commanding  a  majority,  was  the  opposition,  itself  a 
disciplined  hierarchy  likewise.  The  conflict  between 
these  "outs"  and  the  privileged  "ins"  has  attacked 
monarchy  and  aristocracy  and  army,  and  the  civil 
service  not  at  all.  They  have  lost  kingship  of  one 
form,  but  they  love  pomp  as  the  British  do.  All 
three  ranks,  though  stripped  of  political  power,  stand 
defiant  and  insolent  with  social  power  in  Great 
Britain,  but  the  people  idolize  them  as  the  picturesque 
element  in  the  otherwise  gray  political  panorama. 
When  plain  John  Morley  and  plain  James  Bryce  re- 
tire with  peerages,  the  populace  is  neither  shocked 
nor  grieved,  it  applauds.  The  German  is  just  as 
fond  of  the  show;  so,  for  the  matter  of  that,  is  the 
American,  amused  with  the  splendors  of  his  President's 
progress,  with  his  own  snobbery,  and  intensely  gay 
with  the  consequent  enlivenment  of  life.  Nowhere 
does  the  most-government  theory  of  the  state  pre- 


io6 


DEMOCRACY: 


vail,  in  ideal  and  in  fact,  as  with  us.  With  it  and  its 
inquisitive  commissions,  its  tariff  and  income  tax;  its 
regulation,  sometimes  directly,  always  indirectly,  of 
commodity  prices,  its  census  and  passport  question- 
naires, and  so  on  ad  infinitum,  we  hem  in  and  limit 
our  liberties  actively,  not  passively,  as  the  German 
does.  Believing  firmly  that  we  can  stop  it  all  at  will, 
we  dance  on  the  verge  of  a  practice  which,  in  other 
times  and  places,  has  hardened  into  tyranny. 

The  latest  Russian  historian,  Kluchevsky,  himself 
a  democrat,  depicts  in  his  long  and  thorough  study, 
the  steady  evolution  of  a  central  Russian  czardom 
from  local  democracies.  More  Finn  than  Slav  by 
race,  Rus,  as  he  styles  the  nebulous  nationality,  had 
its  choice:  to  be  engulfed  in  the  Tartar  hordes  of  the 
Asiatic  steppes,  or  to  be  Europeanized  and  central- 
ized and  organized  for  the  protection  of  its  Byzantine 
church  and  state.  The  totality  of  Rus,  as  he  also 
insistently  styles  the  later  Russian  folk  and  its  ethos, 
is  soaked  with  the  democratic  state  of  mind,  but  was 
forced  to  Caesarism  as  a  refuge  against  infidelity  and 
barbarism.  Of  all  possible  social  systems  Islam  is 
the  most  utterly  democratic  in  ideal  and  in  fact; 
but  for  ages  it  mutely  accepted  an  absolute  Padishah 
in  politics  and  administration  in  order  to  conserve 
its  religion  and  its  society;  over  against  outsiders  it 
is  fierce  and  intolerant.  Similar  democratic  states  of 
mind  are  not  merely  traceable,  but  obtrusive  in 
China,  even  in  India,  the  whole  furthest  east,  not  even 
excepting  Japan.  The  contemporary  and  modern 
histories  of  Italy  and  Spain  reveal  them  likewise. 
As  scholars  see  the  modern  world,  to  its  utmost 
bounds,  democracy  is  the  medium  through  which  its 
basic  qualities  must  be  examined.  The  attitude  and 
practice  of  persons  in  the  personified  state  is  a  matter 
of  emphasis,  determined  largely  by  physical  geography 
and  its  consequent  economic  exigencies. 


THE  FOES  IN  ITS  HOUSEHOLD  107 


This  is  particularly  so  in  France.  In  her  long  evo- 
lution she  reached  a  point  where  in  the  crown  the 
person  of  the  state  and  the  person  of  the  ruler,  and  the 
person  of  the  church  were  almost  completely  blended 
into  a  unit.  The  abuses  of  absolute  ecclesiastical  and 
secular  authority  in  a  single  alloy  were  so  glaring  that 
the  ruin  of  the  system  was  overwhelming.  "We  have 
lived  six  centuries  in  six  years,"  said  Boissy  d'Anglas 
in  1795.  The  outside  world  was  aghast  at  the  dis- 
appearance of  monarchy,  aristocracy,  ecclesiasticism, 
even  of  the  family,  and  awe-stricken  at  the  efficiency 
of  the  mob.  Yet  the  six-year  transformation  would 
have  faded  from  the  scenes  had  not  Napoleon  turned 
the  withes  of  absolute  monarchy,  which  bound  the 
sleeping  Samson  of  democracy,  into  the  steel  gyves 
of  imperialism.  His  institutions  survive  almost  un- 
touched, especially  that  perfect  engine  of  centraliza- 
tion, the  prefecture;  manipulated  now,  however,  not 
by  an  hereditary  emperor,  but  by  a  committee  of 
politocrats,  similar  to  those  who  control  our  own 
machines,  in  the  constitution  of  which  the  great 
majority  of  Frenchmen  exert  a  minimum  of  influence. 

Democracy  in  the  sense  of  government  by  the 
popular  opinion  of  the  French  attacks  in  vain  the 
supremacy  of  Paris,  where  what  passes  for  general 
opinion  is  manufactured  much  as  its  other  specialties 
in  the  arts  are  created.  It  is  estimated,  as  elsewhere 
said,  that  the  ruling  class  of  France  is  the  executive 
committee  of  less  than  three  million  free-thinkers, 
Protestants,  and  Jews.  These  include  the  "high 
finance"  and  the  "intellectuals,"  with  the  subservi- 
ent manipulators  of  the  press  and  of  elections.  The 
overwhelming  majority  of  Frenchmen  live  their  ad- 
mirable [lives,  absorbing  each  his  "journal"  and  its 
opinions,  voting  one  and  all  with  some  modicum  of 
intelligence,  and  as  a  whole,  cultivating  the  arts  of 
peace  under  the  rule  of  a  minority,  too  large  to  be 


io8 


DEMOCRACY: 


called  an  oligarchy,  perhaps,  but  nevertheless  totally 
unrepresentative  of  even  the  better  instructed  masses. 
The  "liberty,  equality,  fraternity"  watchword,  once 
printed  or  painted  in  great  capitals  on  public  build- 
ings and  in  public  places,  no  longer  arouses  sufficient 
interest  to  make  the  authorities  freshen  up  the  fad- 
ing letters.  So  long  as  the  French  Government  is 
strong,  it  is  safe,  not  because  it  is  democratic,  but 
because  it  is  strong;  the  democratic  state  of  mind 
permeates  the  people,  but  their  existing  system  is  far 
from  democratic  according  to  the  strict  sense  of  the 
word.  It  is  organized,  administrative  force  with  the 
mask  of  democracy. 


VIII 


democracy:  its  gains 

DEMOCRACY  HAS  NEW  IDEAL  OF  "LIFe" — ALSO  OF  PHILANTHROPY  AND 
"liberty" — ALSO  OF  "PURSUIT  OF  HAPPINESS" — MAKES  FOR  PURITY 
AND  MILDNESS,  THEORETICAL  EQUALITY — HAS  TRANSFORMED  DEGREE 
AND  EXTENT  OF  EDUCATION— DANGERS  IN  QUALITY  OF  TEACHING  AND 
EXPANSION  OF  COURSES — HAS  SET  A  NEW  TASK  FOR  THE  UNIVERSITIES 
— HAS  CREATED  WIDE-SPREAD  VIRTUOUS  DISCONTENT — HAS  CREATED 
A  SOCIAL  CONSCIENCE,  WITH  NEW  VIEWS  ABOUT  DUTY,  SELF-DENIAL, 

AND  EQUALITY  CRUDE  CONCEPTS  OF  DEMOCRATIC  MORALITY  REQUIRE 

CLASSIFICATION — DEMANDS   SANCTION  OF   FORCE  FOR   ALL  MILITARY 

SERVICE — INJECTS  ELEMENTS  OF  REALITY  INTO  DREAMY  UTOPIAS  

ADJUSTS   SECULAR   MORALS    TO    SUCCESSIVE    STATES    OF  SOCIETY  

REMODELS  POLITICAL  SYSTEMS  TO  SUIT  DISCOVERS  DISTINCTIONS  BE- 
TWEEN LIBERTY  AND  LICENSE. 

Life,  liberty  and — the  pursuit  of — happiness !  Should 
individual  man  tear  off  the  mask  of  affectation  and, 
dissecting  his  very  being,  lay  bare  what  he  really 
wants,  would  it  be  expressed  in  this  well-worn  formula  ? 
Perhaps;  but  with  many  subtle  modifications  of  the 
hitherto  accepted  meanings  of  these  terms.  Taught 
to  believe  that  existence  is  the  condition  antecedent 
to  all  else,  he  earnestly  desires  to  be  rather  than  not 
to  be,  but  what  is  being?  What  is  life  to-day  with- 
out the  new  environment?  Every  age  has  within  it 
the  germs  of  the  next  succeeding  one.  The  goal  of 
one  is  the  starting-point  of  the  next.  The  degree  of 
fulness  in  one  state  of  existence  is  totally  insufficient 
for  the  complete  existence  of  the  next.  Democracy 
dreams  that  there  is  an  inexhaustible  reservoir  from 
which  every  man's  desire  may  be  supplied  if  only  the 
channels,  clogged  for  the  many,  could  be  opened  for 
all.  Life,  like  the  daughters  of  the  horse-leech,  cries 
for  more  and  more,  if  it  is  to  be  real  life;  and  failing 
that,  this  mere  "being"  is  not  life;  and  imperfect 

109 


no  DEMOCRACY:    ITS  GAINS 


life  is  not  to  be  desired.  In  the  periods  of  emotional 
storm  and  stress  there  is  an  ever-increasing  number 
who  dehberately  take  their  own  and  others'  lives  be- 
cause such  a  life  is  totally  defective  and  not  worth 
while.  Without  health,  or  wealth,  or  home,  or  friend- 
ship, or  faith,  life  is  valueless,  and  to  large  numbers 
the  negation  of  death  is  preferable.  "Life"  in  the 
formula,  therefore,  no  longer  means  mere  opportunity 
for  scanty  existence  with  some  initiative  to  improve; 
it  means  fulness  at  the  start  with  both  capacity  and 
means  for  enjoyment  from  the  outset:  physical  and 
spiritual. 

Liberty  again,  if  the  mask  of  affectation  be  thrown 
aside,  and  the  burden  of  the  past  be  flung  off,  appears 
to  mean  doing  as  we  please  within  a  limited  sphere, 
that  of  easy  living:  of  being  honest,  charitable,  gen- 
erous, intelligent,  virtuous  without  much  hindrance, 
and  little,  if  any,  self-denial  or  self-discipline.  Just 
as  we  want  a  church  that  attends  to  the  matter  of  our 
everlasting  salvation,  relieving  us  of  exertion  and 
responsibility,  satisfying  our  craving  for  beauty  and 
feeding  our  imagination  with  mystical  suggestion, 
so  we  want  a  state  machinery  which  shall  reform  the 
criminal,  support  the  poor,  protect  the  weak,  and 
render  dishonesty  impossible,  while  the  honest  go 
their  way  accumulating  property,  heaping  up  educa- 
tion, refining  their  minds,  and  enjoying  easy  comfort. 
In  regard  to  liberty,  that  is  really  the  democratic 
state  of  mind;  the  system  of  freedom  is  the  one 
which  most  satisfies  it.  Naturally  the  small  mi- 
nority who  have  by  sheer  ability  of  some  sort,  or  by 
the  accident  of  inheritance  already  attained  to  some- 
thing like  this,  wish  to  ward  off  the  greedy  multitude 
who  have  not.  They  distribute  their  superfluity  to 
the  masses  in  admirable  endowments,  but  they  live 
softly  after  the  Sidonian  manner.  The  rest  "admire 
to  behold"  this  splendor  of  luxury  in  life  and  liber- 


DEMOCRACY:    ITS  GAINS  iii 


ality,  but  having  through  their  votes  the  poHtical 
power,  they  spend  sleepless  nights  devising  a  way 
legally  to  "even  up,"  to  confiscate  legally  if  need  be, 
in  order  to  "level  down"  as  well.  It  is  not  equality 
with  the  lowly  that  is  desired  by  the  majority,  but 
parity  with  the  haughty. 

Finally  in  the  triad  comes  not  happiness,  but  the 
pursuit  of  happiness.  The  hardiest  phrase-maker 
never  dared  to  intimate  that  the  democratic  state  of 
mind  or  a  democracy  in  action  could  assure  happiness 
itself.  The  highest  earthly  "  life  "  is  not  the  absolutely 
highest,  nor  the  fullest  degree  of  liberty  the  actual 
fullest;  both  are  relative,  while  happiness,  on  the 
contrary,  is  positive  and  complete  in  its  very  mean- 
ing. But  the  "pursuit  of  happiness"!  Pursuit  is 
exertion,  the  chasing  with  panting  breath  of  that 
which  ever  eludes  our  grasp.  In  this  there  is  no 
languid  enjoyment,  not  even  comfortable  exertion: 
watch  the  misers  of  every  type,  the  great  money- 
getters,  the  successful  society  leaders,  the  greedy 
scholars,  the  austere  professional  men,  how  they  toil ! 
Is  such  pursuit  the  sort  indicated  in  the  democratic 
watchword  ?  No  one  thinks  or  asserts  that  the  sur- 
mounting of  obstacles,  the  risk  of  health  and  fortune, 
of  life  itself,  the  putting  aside  of  every  weight,  and 
the  straining  of  every  nerve,  is  a  type  of  pursuit  pos- 
sible to  the  multitude,  or  desired  in  the  democratic 
state  of  mind.  If  we  run  at  all  we  want  to  jog  along 
in  a  pack,  which  can  go  just  as  fast  and  as  far  as  the 
weakest  unit.  We  say  we  do  not  want  "to  best  our 
mate":  very  generous!  We  want  in  our  democratic 
frame  of  mind  the  most  we  can  get  with  the  least 
hardship.  The  strong  and  resourceful  shall  not  spend 
and  be  spent  in  the  public  service;  that  would  be 
aristocratic,  the  reversal  of  democracy. 

It  cannot  be  too  strongly  emphasized,  however, 
that  every  possible  arraignment  of  the  present-day 


112  DEMOCRACY:    ITS  GAINS 


straining  for  the  equalization  and  standardization  of 
mankind,  made  from  the  platform  of  the  immediate 
past,  is  nevertheless  a  verdict  of  innocence.  Or 
rather  it  is  the  triumphant  vindication  of  the  demo- 
cratic movement.  The  ultimate  test  of  any  social 
system  is  the  free  play  it  gives  for  personal  virtue; 
self-discipline,  respect  for  authority  popularly  con- 
stituted, for  moderation  of  public  speech.  This  the 
democratic  movement  has  secured  in  democracies  of 
every  type:  freedom  of  speech  does  not  mean  license 
for  blatant  demagoguery,  nor  does  liberty  mean  de- 
fiance of  the  law.  This  is  so  well  understood  by  po- 
tent majorities  that  democracy  is  more  ruthless  in 
the  repression  of  both  license  and  lawlessness  than 
any  other  form  of  government,  witness  Switzerland 
in  the  enforcement  of  neutrality  even  to  the  extent 
of  military  control  in  a  crisis;  or  the  United  States 
during  the  Civil  War,  or  England  in  the  throes  of 
conflict  closing  newspaper  offices,  and  confiscating 
printing-plants.  The  free  play  for  public  virtue  has 
been  further  illustrated  in  the  expansion  of  the  suf- 
frage. British  democracy  in  1832  secured  the  ballot, 
not  for  itself,  but  for  its  next  higher,  the  middle, 
class,  and  in  the  succession  of  agitations  from  1867 
to  1 87 1,  it  granted  what  was  substantially  manhood 
suffrage.  The  agitation  for  womanhood  suffrage 
has  triumphantly  overcome  all  resistance.  At  the 
beginning  of  the  struggle,  however,  in  this  very  democ- 
racy, its  advocates  inaugurated  the  same  policy  of 
violence  as  preceded  the  first  Reform  Bill:  appar- 
ently they  expected  bloodshed  and  massacre  on  the 
same  scale  before  attaining  their  end,  and  it  did 
seem  as  if  nothing  less  could  break  down  the  bull- 
dog conservatism  of  an  English  popular,  "demo- 
cratic" government.  The  supreme  achievements  of 
women  during  the  war  overwhelmed  all  obstacles.  In 
America  the  settlement  of  the  western  states  made 


DEMOCRACY:    ITS  GAINS  113 


limited  manhood  suffrage  an  absurdity,  and  the 
older  eastern  commonwealths  followed  the  example 
of  the  younger,  until,  except  for  southern  negroes  and 
women  in  some  states,  there  is  the  free  exercise  of 
suffrage  right,  and  to  some  extent,  the  performance 
of  corresponding  duties.  White  women  have  only 
to  exhibit  a  favorable  majority  and  the  state  meets 
their  wishes;  imposing  on  them  duties  of  a  weight 
they  as  yet  barely  realize.  The  race  problem  is  a 
most  serious  question,  but  should  the  majority  of  our 
negroes  exhibit  during  a  not  too  protracted  future 
the  self-discipline  which  a  considerable  minority  have 
for  ten  years  been  practising,  they  too  will  wring  from 
the  state  the  free  use  of  the  suffrage  in  fact,  as  they 
have  it  in  theory. 

Another  significant  triumph  of  the  democratic  state 
of  mind  is  the  spread  of  free  education.  A  democratic 
state  is  unthinkable  without  the  common  school. 
Public  careers  require  some  training,  and,  as  is  blindly 
but  deeply  felt,  are  not  really  open  to  all  without  the 
opportunity  for  a  higher  education.  By  the  continu- 
ous agitation  of  these  two  homely  truths  there  has 
been  an  ever  increased  and  increasing  tender  of 
every  type  of  education,  including  vocational  and 
professional;  a  tender  accompanied  in  myriads  of 
conceited  souls  by  allurements  of  future  place  and 
station,  as  tempting  as  the  apples  of  paradise.  For 
this  the  taxpayer  cheerfully  bears  a  staggering  burden, 
as  indeed  he  does  for  every  activity  of  the  democratic 
state.  The  populace  complains  bitterly  about  the 
quality  of  teaching,  but  voices  are  scarcely  audible 
which  attack  the  quantity.  To  the  dispassionate  and 
disinterested  no  sight  is  less  edifying  than  the  number 
of  lesson-books  school  children  lug  to  and  fro,  unless 
it  be  the  dull  fury  of  the  rejected  dunce  in  the  univer- 
sity. A  certain  type  of  dunce  goes  all  the  way:  the 
plodding  dullard  with  ambitions  far  beyond  his  powers, 


114  DEMOCRACY:    ITS  GAINS 


yet  sustained  by  blundering  through  a  course  of  study 
which  he  sufficiently  masters  to  secure  passing  grades. 
To  pick  out  from  the  herd  of  the  commonplace  the 
elect  few  who  command  and  use  the  free  education 
of  America  for  the  public  good  is  not  very  difficult; 
but,  on  the  other  hand,  we  seem  to  be  accumulating 
a  numerous  proletariat  of  pedantic  weaklings,  who 
find  themselves  crushed  to  the  wall  in  the  struggle 
for  advancement;  and  in  revenge  menace  the  world 
with  anarchy.  Yet  the  American  slack-heap  is  not 
as  large  as  the  European  was,  nor  so  liable  to  spon- 
taneous combustion.  Were  it  not  for  the  accretions 
on  our  organs  of  many  intractable  immigrants,  much 
of  the  discard  could  be  turned  into  good  material. 
Manifest  as  are  the  defects  of  our  comprehensive 
system  of  free  education,  it  makes  possible  the  Ameri- 
can system  of  life,  and  its  creation  has  been  in  itself 
a  vindication  of  democracy. 

The  glaring  faults  of  our  free  education  are  not  so 
much  in  the  quality  of  the  pupils  as  in  the  inade- 
quacy of  preparation  for  teachers.  Methods  can 
never  replace  matter,  but  there  is  exactly  the  same 
striving  to  this  end  in  pedagogics  as  in  politics:  to 
create  a  form  of  instruction  which  shall  produce  good 
teaching  regardless  of  the  teacher.  It  is  probably 
untrue  that,  as  is  generally  believed,  our  teachers 
could  command  either  more  money  or  more  honor  in 
any  other  career.  But  it  is  certain  that  the  test 
can  never  be  applied  except  as  teachers  are  better 
educated  and  better  disciplined,  as  they  are  less  fret- 
ful and  more  devoted  to  their  high  calling.  We  have 
done  what  is  under  the  circumstances  our  best  in 
the  equipment  of  normal  schools,  and  the  founding 
of  special  faculties  for  teachers  in  our  universities; 
the  best  as  far  as  we  have  come.  But  there  is  still  a 
long  road  to  travel.  The  unfit  among  pupils  and 
teachers  must  be  discouraged  and  eliminated  at 


DEMOCRACY:    ITS  GAINS  115 


every  stage,  and  for  the  survivors  must  be  provided 
encouragement  and  opportunity  to  a  degree  far 
higher  than  at  present.  Indeed  the  very  genius  of 
our  highest  institutions  of  learning  must  be  changed. 
Medievalism  struggled  into  the  modern  light  by 
means  of  universities,  parliaments,  and  trial  by 
jury;  of  the  two  latter  democracy  is  already  very 
suspicious,  and  to  the  first  it  no  longer  harkens  with- 
out dispute.  Beyond  peradventure  democracy  will 
meddle  with  every  sacrosanct  institution  of  the  im- 
mediate past,  with  nationality,  with  constitutions, 
with  representative  government,  with  laws,  lawyers, 
and  the  law's  delays,  and  with  the  system  of  secular 
instruction  from  top  to  bottom. 

The  universities  have  so  far  made  their  appeal  to 
the  person  of  the  superior  intellect,  but  now  they  are 
becoming  levelled,  compelling  the  dull  to  do  better 
than  they  can,  and  energizing  the  slothful,  while  at 
the  same  time  they  deliberately  diminish  the  oppor- 
tunity of  the  diligent;  or,  at  least,  they  attenuate  it. 
The  stamp  of  the  college  and  university  degree  can 
be  secured  by  a  far  larger  number  than  caution  per- 
mits; which  is  a  tribute  to  masterful  democracy. 
Those  who  win  it  are  left  to  vindicate,  each  his  or  her 
right.  But  with  this  success  the  social  conscience  is 
bitterly  disappointed.  What  this  conscience  now  de- 
mands is  not  reform  but  an  evolution  amounting  to 
revolution.  The  modern  alliance  between  pure  and 
applied  science  has  created  a  social  force  which  appalls 
the  conservative  world.  Facts  are  now  arranged  on 
a  scheme  of  thought  created  by  the  identification  of 
politics  and  economics.  In  the  case  of  Germany, 
where  the  process  has  been  most  complete,  the  uni- 
versities were  prompt  to  transform  themselves  and 
create  an  apostolate,  not  of  history  and  the  past, 
but  of  the  present  and  the  new. 

The  past  has  been  stigmatized  as  destitute  of  ethical 


ii6  DEMOCRACY:    ITS  GAINS 


content.  The  result  has  been  a  type  of  nationality 
hitherto  unknown  to  history,  a  nationality  con- 
structed, not  from  former  elements,  but  from  im- 
mediate social  and  political  conditions,  marking  a 
transition  to  democracy.  Other  lands  spew  venom 
over  what  they  are  slow  to  apprehend;  an  efficiency 
of  the  socialized  state,  of  the  social  conscience,  which 
dismays  the  peoples  who  have  believed  that  democ- 
racy means  peace,  and  liberty,  to  the  verge  of  license. 
In  the  crisis  of  a  nationality,  whether  based  as  of  old 
on  unity  of  tradition,  origin,  and  territory,  or  as  now 
upon  environment  and  interest,  democracy  is  its  own 
most  ruthless  tyrant.  It  must  be  the  business  of  our 
universities  to  accept  this  fact,  to  profit  by  the  exam- 
ple of  facts  as  they  are,  and  to  invent  the  needed 
checks  on  King  Demos,  be  he  personified  in  an  heredi- 
tary or  in  an  elective  sovereign;  to  find  a  way  to 
satisfy  the  social  conscience  without  recourse  to 
political  mechanism.  The  lowly  now  despise  charity, 
and  though  they  seemingly  accept  it,  they  transmute, 
for  their  own  vindication,  generosity  into  social  jus- 
tice; they  are  fiercer  with  monopolies  than  any  abso- 
lute monarch  of  old,  seeking  and  finding  means  to 
be,  through  the  state  control,  the  largest  stockholders 
in  them;  they  are  impatient  with  any  political  con- 
trol for  themselves,  even  by  parties,  and  insist  on 
the  direct  action  of  their  votes  in  some  way  or  an- 
other, so  far  mostly  by  inefficient  ways;  and  they 
have  compelled  a  body  of  humane  legislation  for  the 
industrial  worker,  which  enables  blackguards,  un- 
punished, to  practise  every  crime  on  the  plea  of  social 
equity.  These  are  the  matters,  or  at  least  a  sample 
of  them,  which  must  concern  our  universities  if  they 
are  to  command  leadership  in  the  new  society,  and 
secure  for  all  alike,  for  capitalist  as  well  as  for  laborer, 
for  refinement  and  gentleness  as  well  as  for  rudeness 
and  force,  equal  rights,  equal  duties,  and  equal  jus- 
tice.   Some  women  honestly  believe  that  in  this  new 


DEMOCRACY:    ITS  GAINS  117 


social  and  economical  politics  they  can  accomplish 
what  they  have  accomplished  in  society:  low,  middle, 
and  high.  If  the  overwhelming  majority  of  them  do 
not  shrink  from  so  crushing  a  burden,  even  if  they 
secure  their  opportunity,  there  will  be  on  earth  a 
type  of  male  and  female  hitherto  non-existent:  so- 
cially efficient  but  personally  and  reciprocally  un- 
attractive, sexually  dispassionate  and  individually 
self-sufficient.  It  requires  distasteful  iteration  to 
realize  that  the  universities  must  deal  with  these — 
deal  in  such  a  way  that  the  world  may  still  retain  in 
morals,  in  religion,  and  in  art  all  that  exalts  humanity 
by  its  moral  and  aesthetic  worth,  and  at  the  same  time 
still  the  clamorous  demand  of  democracy  for  control 
of  all  the  sources.    It  is  a  solemn  outlook. 

Government  commissions  for  the  study  of  social 
unrest  are  a  foolish  expedient  to  gain  time :  they  rather 
accelerate  the  pace.  What  they  discover  is  no  dis- 
covery at  all:  that  unregenerate  humanity  is  un- 
changed, and  the  substance  of  their  reports  is  just 
an  old  patent  medicine.  More  pay  for  less  work. 
The  democratic  frame  of  mind  is  just  as  selfish  as 
the  aristocratic  or  the  monarchical — less  exertion, 
more  enjoyment — it  merely  demands  for  the  many 
what  has  so  far  been  the  possession  of  the  few.  To 
abolish  social  unrest  would  be  to  abolish  human 
nature.  Every  generation  starts  from  the  achieve- 
ment of  the  previous,  grateful  in  a  measure  for  the 
impetus,  but  bent,  nevertheless,  to  achieve  just  as 
much  more  during  its  own  allotted  period  of  restless 
toil.  It  is  in  this  respect  that  the  gains  of  democracy 
are  smallest,  and  the  outlook  at  first  sight  most  dis- 
couraging. The  obstinacy  of  selfish  human  nature 
is  appalling.  Nevertheless  there  have  been  real  gains 
in  this  regard,  and  they  ought  not  to  be  forgotten, 
being  as  they  are  more  substantial  than  the  pessimist 
would  have  us  believe. 

The  social  conscience  is  the  proof.    Its  awakening 


ii8  DEMOCRACY:    ITS  GAINS 


exhibits  a  high  degree  of  self-denial,  the  merging  of 
self  in  the  community,  no  longer  a  family  or  a  local 
community,  but  a  national  and  even  an  international 
republic  of  mankind.  To  hate  the  common  herd  is 
no  exhibition  of  superiority  in  our  time,  quite  the 
reverse.  There  are  two  sides  to  the  labor  union,  as 
far  as  general  humanity  is  concerned,  since  it  excludes 
free  labor  for  the  benefit  of  that  which  is  organized. 
The  unions  have  met  greed  with  greed  in  a  doughty 
contest,  and  come  oflf  largely  victorious.  But  they 
furnish  such  an  example  of  preferring  the  good  of  the 
weaker  members  to  the  advantage  of  the  strong  as 
was,  in  like  dimensions,  hitherto  unknown.  The 
unionization  of  unskilled  labor  proceeds  apace,  and 
while  violence  too  often  marks  the  advance,  yet  the 
violence  of  the  early  twentieth  is  feeble  and  atten- 
uated compared  with  that  of  the  early  nineteenth 
century.  The  sway  of  reason  steadily  prevails  over 
the  anarchy  of  unreason,  just  as  the  value  of  unselfish- 
ness and  subordination  is  exhibited  in  the  control  of 
organization,  exercised  by  officers  elected  by  their 
equals  to  wield  it.  Discontent  may  be  a  virtue,  if  it 
lead  to  the  practice  of  self-restraint  in  order  to  im- 
prove general  living  conditions. 

As  for  capital,  never  has  it  made  greater  sacrifices; 
the  thoughtless  sneer  at  the  improvements  in  all  the 
conditions  of  employment,  and,  in  calm  negotiations 
with  labor  representatives,  as  merely  enlightened 
selfishness;  but  the  emphasis  is  on  "enlightened," 
and  where  light  enters,  for  any  reason,  there  is  the 
beginning  of  power,  higher  life.  "Soulless"  corpora- 
tions actually  ventilate  themselves  as  never  before; 
the  directors'  board-room  of  to-day  is  a  Sunday- 
school  room  compared  with  what  it  was  less  than 
twenty  years  ago,  when  directors  boasted  that  they 
served  to  acquire  knowledge  useful  to  themselves, 
and  felt  no  responsibility  to  stockholders,  employees, 


DEMOCRACY:    ITS  GAINS  119 


or  the  public.  Surely  the  social  unrest  is  in  some 
measure  due  to  the  prickings  of  the  new  social  con- 
science, a  conscience  which  could  not  exist  but  for 
the  softening  of  the  indurated  individual  conscience. 

There  is  bitter  complaint  that  as  yet  the  demo- 
cratic spirit  has  not  totally  expunged  the  survivals 
of  the  passing  generation  in  regard  to  barriers  of  caste, 
and  wealth,  and  race.  There  is  an  insistent  demand 
for  a  new  counsel  of  perfection:  not  the  free-will 
giving  of  all  that  we  have  to  the  poor,  all  privilege, 
all  opportunity,  all  ease,  all  refinement  because  we 
wish  to  lend  a  hand,  but  the  surrender  of  it  as  an 
obvious  duty  to  restore  stolen  goods.  The  notions 
of  sacrifice  and  service  in  a  personal  way  are  obsolete, 
because  personal  virtue  is  obsolete;  communal  virtue, 
organized  ideals,  organized  reciprocity,  democratic 
morality  must  displace  individual,  because,  forsooth, 
otherwise  the  recipient  of  good  is,  and  feels  himself 
to  be,  degraded  in  the  obligation  incurred  by  taking. 
There  is  no  loss  of  self-respect  in  receiving  the  costly 
gift  of  education  from  universities  or  libraries  privately 
endowed,  no  humiliation  in  recourse  to  the  poor-farm, 
the  workhouse,  or  to  organized  charity,  because  the 
whole  transaction  is  impersonal.  You  are  a  truer 
democrat,  if  saved  spiritually  by  a  religious  hierarchy: 
or  socially  by  a  secular  one,  than  if  you  profess  your 
need  as  a  sinner  to  your  Maker  and  before  men,  or 
make  a  reciprocally  beneficial  business  arrangement 
with  a  fellow  man.  It  is  better  to  be  a  subordinate 
in  a  corporation  or  in  a  catholic  church  than  a  cap- 
tain of  industry  or  a  bishop,  because  you  feel  no  per- 
sonal obligation  and  know  no  duty  except  to  a  com- 
munity. Indeed  duty  is  a  concept  exactly  as  harm- 
ful as  those  of  self-denial  and  devotion:  like  these  it 
suggests  inequality,  when  actually  the  object  is  on 
a  par  with  the  subject  in  the  act  of  duty.  It  is  just 
as  blessed  to  receive  as  to  give,  to  accept  as  to  bestow, 


120  DEMOCRACY:    ITS  GAINS 


to  suffer  as  to  give  relief.  There  is  no  limit  to  the 
perfectibility  of  human  nature,  no  slightest  reason  to 
distrust  collective  mankind  or  any  part  of  it,  and 
this  present  state  of  society  is  the  stage  on  which 
collective  virtue  will  find  its  role  or  know  the  reason 
why. 

Such  considerations  as  these  are  a  sturdy  convic- 
tion with  many  sincere  and  thoughtful  minds  who 
balk  at  nothing  and  see  in  the  attacks  on  conservatism 
a  holy  war.  They  regard  men  and  women  as  a  moral 
unity:  their  passion,  their  sexuality,  and  sensuous 
impulse,  their  emotional  enthusiasm  in  art  and  re- 
ligion, all  command  room  for  free  play.  There  can 
be  no  sin  where  there  is  no  law,  no  licentiousness  where 
there  is  no  restraint.  The  family,  therefore,  is  but  a 
mechanism  to  perpetuate  the  race,  and  the  finer  af- 
fections of  loyalty,  love,  helpfulness,  chastity,  find 
within  it  a  scope  no  different  from  that  which  they 
find  in  the  community  at  large.  Babes  go  to  the 
common  nursery,  the  sick  to  public  hospitals,  the 
old  to  public  homes.  The  speciousness  of  such 
thought  is  dazzling  to  youth — not  merely  to  the  young 
in  years,  but  to  the  enthusiastic  radical,  young  in 
feeling  no  responsibility  about  anything,  young  in 
property,  young  in  experience.  But  it  is  shallow 
thinking  because  it  substitutes  desire  for  reality. 
Whatever  the  perfectibility  of  humanity  may  yet  be, 
it  is  still  sadly  incomplete  in  its  foresight  and  fore- 
thought. 

For  instance,  in  the  collective  scheme  there  is  no 
consideration  of  the  categorical  imperative.  Volun- 
tary military  service  is  undemocratic,  compulsion 
alone  is  equalizing,  as  with  every  activity;  even  com- 
pulsory clothes  and  compulsory  breakfast,  as  now 
compulsory  taxes.  Seriously  this  is  the  inevitable 
counterbalance  of  the  other  extreme:  and  while  we 
think  in  a  democratic  frame  of  mind,  the  least  fav- 
ored of  men  have  never,  and  will  never,  consider  for 


DEMOCRACY:    ITS  GAINS  121 


a  moment  a  levelling  up  of  a  sort  which  makes  work 
itself  compulsory,  and  that  under  the  soulless  tyranny 
of  a  majority  that  knows  neither  pity  nor  generosity, 
which,  being  personal  virtues,  must  be  eliminated 
from  the  plan. 

Of  all  the  gains  for  the  democratic  state  of  mind 
which  have  been  enumerated,  this  is  the  most  precious: 
the  power  to  reason  dispassionately,  to  form  hypoth- 
eses, and  to  try  them  out  by  facts.  The  so-called 
Utopias  or  schemes  of  perfect  society  have  hitherto 
been  purely  imaginary,  delightful  visions  of  a  heaven 
on  earth.  This  proposition  to  go  to  the  limit  in 
equalization  of  opportunity,  to  destroy  wealth  and 
caste  and  privilege  and  rights  and  duties  is  to  be 
taken  seriously,  whether  we  like  it  or  not.  So  much 
that  was  thought  visionary,  age  by  age  has,  step  by 
step  been  realized !  Modern  England,  for  better  or 
for  worse,  rests  on  the  achievements  of  the  industrial 
classes  during  three  generations  in  applied  democracy; 
it  balks  and  fumes  before  conscription,  but  democracy 
will  yet  see  that  compulsion  is  of  its  very  essence. 
The  great  mass  of  men  and  women  in  the  western 
world  have  gone  a  long,  long  way  in  compliance  with 
the  imperious  behest  to  self-extinction  in  the  interest 
of  their  fellowmen.  There  never  was  such  a  smooth, 
formal  payment  of  hitherto  unheard-of  taxes,  not 
virtuously  but  dumbly;  never  such  an  acquiescence 
in  the  stern  rule  of  minorities  which  hold  the  balance 
of  power  between  majorities;  never  such  a  surrender 
of  pride  in  privilege  or  birth,  until  it  is  a  stigma  to  be 
the  son  or  daughter  of  somebody.  Is  this  as  far  on 
the  equalizing  line  as  mankind  can  go,  or  can  it  make 
more  changes  in  its  tissue  and  its  conduct  which 
may,  or  may  not,  be  progress  toward  eliminating 
church  and  state  and  family  altogether?  toward  sub- 
stituting the  holy  community  for  the  imperfect  gods 
of  the  past,  and  still  measurably  of  the  present  ? 

The  suggested  changes  are  momentarily  in  the 


122  DEMOCRACY:    ITS  GAINS 


realm  of  speculation,  pure  and  simple.  Extreme 
pacifism  gets  a  hearing,  but  it  is  likewise  subjected 
to  severe  discussion.  Rules  of  conduct,  personal  and 
national,  are  observed  without  the  sanction  of  force 
to  an  amazing  extent,  but  the  substitute  sanctions 
which  are  pleaded,  those  of  justice  and  right  and  duty 
are,  in  the  logic  of  extreme  democracy,  almost  as 
antiquated  and  distasteful  as  force  itself;  moral 
force  is  as  suspicious  as  physical.  Democratic  specu- 
lation of  the  radical  type  contemplates  their  aboli- 
tion from  the  framework  of  thought.  But  again  let 
us  remark  what  a  substantial  gain  for  democracy  it 
is  that  in  this  regard  revolution  exhibits  hesitancy 
and  patience.  Radicalism  actually  feels  some  re- 
spect for  conservatism,  at  least  as  to  preparation  for 
the  n'ext  step.  In  that  regard  it  shows  itself  con- 
servative because  a  conservative  is  one  who  at  least 
somewhat  distrusts  the  apparent  goodness  of  the 
good.  He  suspects  humbug  and  hypocrisy  and  sham, 
having  had  a  wide  and  rich  experience  with  all  three. 
When  radicalism  does  the  same  we  mark  an  enormous 
gain  on  the  tally.  The  States  of  our  union  lend  them- 
selves to  every  type  of  experiment  in  democratic 
radicalism.  These  laboratories  prove  very  costly, 
but  what  of  that  ?  Wisconsin  contributes  $8,000,000 
in  a  single  year  for  popular  political  machinery,  pro- 
nounces it  all  to  be  junk,  and  puts  in  power  a  govern- 
ment which  refuses  the  outlay  a  second  time.  Cali- 
fornia is  another  similar  investigator,  and  with  similar 
results.  The  Federal  Government  heeds  a  call  to 
retrench  $4,000,000  on  rural  delivery  service.  A  great 
volume  might  be  compiled  containing  the  tests  of  the 
empiric  in  politics,  and  cataloguing  the  great  array 
of  discarded  nostrums.  But  what  of  that  again? 
What  failed  in  one  state  of  society  may  succeed  in 
another;  what  was  piffling  rubbish  in  the  political 
thought  of  yesterday  emerges  in  that  of  to-day  sifted 


DEMOCRACY:    ITS  GAINS  123 

and  sprinkled,  ready  to  be  cast  into  the  alembic. 
When  radical  thinkers  propound  the  dilemma  of 
whether  the  people  prefer  self-government  to  good 
government  they  have  rendered  enormous  service  to 
a  cause,  and  advanced  its  interests  a  long  way. 
They  will  shortly  join  the  ranks  of  the  earnest  mul- 
titude who  are  determined  that  good  government 
shall  be  direct  self-government,  just  as  far  as,  and 
no  further  than,  the  "good"  and  the  "self"  can  be 
rendered  identical.  The  pragmatism  in  the  vocab- 
ulary and  system  of  radicalism  proves  a  good  deal 
like  the  effort  of  a  stringhalt  mule  to  kick  over  the 
traces.    But  this  spasm  will  pass. 

The  political  system  which  replaces  the  personal 
by  the  social  conscience  cannot  be  found  by  a  mathe- 
matical formula,  and  logic  is  mathematics.  The  word 
empirical  is  in  disfavor,  but  most  of  modern  science, 
especially  in  the  field  of  electricity,  is  due  to  em- 
piricism; a  thousand  guesses,  a  thousand  experi- 
ments, perhaps  a  single  epochal  discovery,  perhaps 
not  one.  The  test  of  truth  is  fruit.  Might  does  not 
make  right,  and  the  converse  that  right  makes  might 
is  only  true  in  heaven.  Throughout  human  experi- 
ence might  has  again  and  again  made  real  the  right, 
and  might  without  right  has  utterly  failed  from  the 
days  of  Xerxes  onward.  Discipline  may  put  numbers 
to  flight,  it  has  done  so  repeatedly,  but  numbers  with 
discipline  is  a  more  present  help  in  time  of  trouble 
than  discipline  without  numbers.  So  it  is  with  di- 
rect radical  democracy:  the  creation  of  such  a  con- 
cept as  the  social  conscience  is  well  worth  while;  it 
frequently  overwhelms  a  numerical  multitude  of  per- 
verted individual  consciences,  and  it  is  not  the  mere 
arithmetical  sum  of  personal  impulses.  Social  con- 
science is  nothing  new,  it  is  the  continuity  of  civiliza- 
tion and  culture  in  the  state;  but  it  was  well  worth 
while  to  dissect  it  out  and  give  it  a  name.  Civiliza- 


124  DEMOCRACY:    ITS  GAINS 


tion  is  the  totality  of  all  the  means  available  for 
making  life  bright  and  pleasant  and  beautiful:  good 
manners,  style,  taste,  comfort,  and  educated  intelli- 
gence; applied  ethics  and  applied  science.  Refine- 
ment or  culture  depends  for  its  degree  on  the  assimila- 
tion and  use  of  these  means.  It  is  a  platitude  that 
the  most  civilized  peoples  have  not  been  the  most 
cultured  or  refined.  Every  hour  we  have  occasion  to 
note  among  ourselves  the  prevalence  of  the  civilized 
boor,  with  all  the  means  in  his  hand,  but  handy  with 
few  or  none  of  them.  Exactly  as  we  believe  that 
every  man  possesses  manhood,  though  in  different 
degrees,  and  that  the  mean  of  manhood  requires  some 
supermen  to  offset  the  millions  beneath  the  median 
line,  so  we  believe  that  among  all  peoples  there  is  a 
special  type  of  manhood  different  from  the  general, 
that  this  type,  American  or  Briton  or  Frenchman  or 
German,  having  at  hand  th^  totality  of  civilization, 
has  nevertheless  shown  special  fitness  to  use  certain 
elements  more  than  others,  that  he  possesses  and 
employs  them  in  a  type  of  culture  which  is  racial 
and  national.  This  culture  is  his  very  self,  for  it  he 
lives,  and  if  need  be  for  it  he  will  die — in  a  war  of 
self-preservation,  as  it  is  designated  everywhere 
to-day — for  the  right  to  exist  as  he  feels  it  possible 
to  exist.  With  another  social  conscience  he  would 
sicken  and  die. 

It  is  at  this  point  that  radical  democracy  finds  it- 
self in  danger.  There  are  great  numbers  who  create 
and  embody  this  national  culture,  there  are  millions 
who  wear  it  as  a  ready-made  but  well-fitting  garment, 
and  there  are  other  millions  who  despair  of  acquiring 
it,  and  sneer;  the  only  struggle  which  interests  them 
is  that  for  less  labor  and  larger  returns.  People  of  cul- 
ture are  the  only  freemen,  since  they  alone  possess  im- 
pulses unhampered  in  the  cultural  movement ;  all  the 
rest,  with  the  whole  apparatus  of  civilization  at  hand, 


DEMOCRACY:    ITS  GAINS  125 


feel  enslaved,  abuse  their  condition  as  that  of  wage- 
slavery,  and  dash  themselves  against  the  bars  of 
everything  except  brutish  comfort,  the  comfort  of 
the  stye ;  it  is  hard  for  them  in  their  perverted  sense 
of  degradation  even  to  root  for  food.  A  people  is  a 
whole,  in  a  way  a  unit,  more  or  less  close-knit.  Feel- 
ing and  acting  in  this  union,  it  employs,  must  employ, 
individuals  as  organs.  Democracy  is  in  the  house 
of  its  foes  when  it  proposes  and  selects  as  such  organs 
in  its  unitary  organism,  such  persons  as  are  inert, 
and  entrusts  them  with  labors  for  which  they  have 
no  will,  no  training,  and  no  character.  The  demo- 
cratic mind  denounces  the  past;  but  this  national 
culture,  this  social  conscience,  is  the  chemical  product 
of  national  unity  in  time  as  well  as  space.  Since  the 
settlement  of  these  shores  the  elements  and  the  in- 
fluences in  our  social  consciences  have  been  at  work, 
and  there  is  no  incorporated  American  force,  men  or 
movement,  past  or  present,  which  is  not  indispensable 
in  its  composition.  The  herd  cannot  be  expected  to 
know  or  feel  this:  the  element  of  reverence  is  embry- 
onic with  them,  they  do  not  even  revere  themselves. 
The  present  writer  has  published  a  plea  for  American 
parties  as  the  stern  taskmaster  of  the  foolish,  to  edu- 
cate and  fit  the  multitude  for  intelligent  participation 
in  politics  and  society.  No  one  can  as  yet  suggest 
how  far  that  education  should  go,  nor  how  much  in 
justice  the  taxpayer  should  contribute  to  it.  There 
seems  to  be  conclusive  evidence  that  party  government 
is  extravagantly  costly ;  the  costly  experiment  has  not 
proven  that  it  produces  the  finest  social  conscience. 

To  save  democracy  our  statesmen  are  now  striving 
to  locate  responsibility  in  a  select  oligarchy,  almost 
exactly  as  Marius  and  his  followers  did  in  Rome. 
The  only  difference  between  them  and  the  party  of 
Sulla  was  that  the  latter  did  not  profess  any  interest 
in  the  general  welfare,  except  as  it  was  a  support  for 


126  DEMOCRACY:    ITS  GAINS 


the  aristocratic  class.  The  newspaper  reader  of 
to-day  must  be  impressed  with  the  emphasis  laid  on 
democracy  as  being  the  one  system  which  leaves  the 
citizen  free  to  choose  his  own  rules.  This  is  just  as 
applicable  to  aristocracy  and  monarchy,  to  oligarchy 
and  tyranny  as  to  democracy.  Since  the  day  when 
La  Boetie  wrote  his  Contre-Un  it  has  been  clear  that 
if  the  physical  force  of  the  multitude  does  not  over- 
throw the  physical  weakness  of  the  tyrant,  it  is  be- 
cause the  multitude,  for  very  complex  reasons,  per- 
haps, but  truly  nevertheless,  wants  the  tyrant.  The 
boss  is  the  petty  tyrant,  and  he  exists  because  he 
fills  a  want  of  the  busy  multitude  who  want  the  form 
of  choice  without  the  infinite  trouble  attendant  on 
careful  selection.  In  our  democratic  state  of  mind  we 
are  on  the  way  to  the  greatest  gain  of  democracy 
hitherto  made,  to  locate  responsibility  by  making  the 
legally  elected  magistrate  the  responsible  party  boss 
in  local,  state,  and  federal  government:  to  supplant- 
ing hidden,  dangerous  power  by  open  rule  according 
to  law. 


IX 


DEMOCRACY  AND  EFFICIENCY — I 

DEMOCRACY  THE  MEDIUM  OF  MODERN  LIFE — DEGREES  OF  FEELING  AND 
REALIZATION — DEGREES  OF  EFFICIENCY — DEMOCRACY  AND  BUREAU- 
CRACY— THE  SOCIAL  CONSCIENCE — OUR  DEMOCRACY  TENACIOUS  OF 
CONTINUITY  IN  PEACE — BUT  ALSO  IN  WAR — ITS  EFFICIENCY  IN  INVEN- 
TION AND  ITS  GENEROSITY  TO  PUBLIC  SERVANTS — ITS  SUCCESS  IN  DI- 
PLOMACY—THE MODERN  CONCEPT  OF  STATE  SYSTEMS — OUR  DEMOC- 
RACY NOT  SERVICE;    DEGREE  OF   SELF-KNOWLEDGE — VERSATILITY  OF 

ITS  ARTISTIC  GENIUS  COMMODITY  OF  CITY  LIFE — THE  "  MELTING-POT  " 

IDEA  AND  ITS  LIMITATIONS  REVERSION  TO  COLONIALISM — FREEDOM 

AND  SERVITUDE — LIBERTY  AND  DUTY. 

There  is  a  fable  which  describes  schools  of  fish  as- 
sembled in  parliament,  earnestly  debating  whether 
or  not  there  were  such  a  substance  as  water.  This 
discussion  was  represented  as  in  the  interest  of  lib- 
erty. There  were  present  many  wise  and  weighty 
individual  denizens  of  the  deep;  but  in  large  majority 
the  sprats  and  minnows  of  the  surface  were  remarked 
for  numbers,  noise,  and  activity,  upholding  for  the 
most  part,  too,  the  negative,  judging  the  concept  of 
water  as  a  condition  of  existence  to  be  false.  It  was 
preposterous  that  such  an  element  should  limit  their 
being;  air  and  earth  were  equally  their  heritage. 
Perhaps  this  fable  teaches  that  if  from  a  row-boat 
the  human  eye  observed  the  watery  deeps  it  would 
conclude  that  fish  democracy  had  resulted  in  the 
pitiful  insignificance  of  shiners  and  skimmers.  Our 
vision  must  start  from  a  higher  point  and  sound  the 
depths  in  order  to  discover  the  great,  though  hidden, 
significance  of  its  influential  members.  Perhaps,  too, 
there  is  some  analogy  to  such  experience  in  contem- 
plating human  democracy,  its  membership,  and  its 
results.    Democracy  seems  to  be  the  medium  of 

137 


128    DEMOCRACY  AND  EFFICIENCY— I 


modern  human  life,  quite  as  completely  as  water  is 
the  medium  of  fish  life.  If  there  be  no  efficiency  in 
democracy,  then  efificiency  ceases  to  be  a  factor  in 
life.  It  is  a  burning  question  in  millions  of  minds 
whither  democracy  tends  in  this  respect,  in  peace  and 
in  war.  For  some  time  the  English-speaking  democ- 
racies have  been  very  self-complacent  regarding  effi- 
ciency in  war. 

Efficiency  is  the  selection  and  application  of  means 
to  an  end;  democracy  is  the  state  of  mind  which  de- 
sires for  persons  and  society  the  greatest  possible  share 
in  government.  To  pretend  that  any  hitherto  dis- 
covered system  of  statecraft  excludes  democracy  is 
delusion,  and  it  is  equally  fatuous  to  assert  that  any 
single  system  satisfies  it  even  approximately.  Never- 
theless, we  consider  that  certain  nations  approach 
nearer  than  others  to  the  ideal,  and  we  generally 
speak  of  ourselves  and  the  British  empire  as  democ- 
racies. The  democratic  temper  prevails  in  France; 
it  made  the  French  system,  and  periodically  elects 
the  senators  and  deputies;  but  French  administra- 
tive machinery  is  centralized  and  oligarchical  to  the 
highest  possible  degree :  there  is  neither  local  nor  gen- 
eral self-government,  once  the  machine  is  assembled 
and  put  in  operation.  The  whole  administration  is 
alike  imperial  and  Napoleonic,  by  whatever  name  it 
is  known. 

In  the  passing  crisis,  therefore,  one  monarchy  and 
one  oligarchical  republic  have  stood  out,  pre-eminent 
for  efficiency.  It  is  a  wide-spread  conviction  that  at 
the  outset  the  one  true  democracy,  Great  Britain, 
was  inefficient  because  it  was  a  democracy.  By  sug- 
gestion and  introspection  we  had  concluded  that 
America  would  in  a  crisis  be  inefficient,  because  it  is 
institutionally  democratic  and  Anglo-Saxon.  This 
shady  hypothesis  was  for  long  the  cause  of  wide- 
spread gloom,  of  some  panic,  and  considerable  hys- 


DEMOCRACY  AND  EFFICIENCY— I  129 


teria.  It  was  forgotten  that  two  monarchies,  one 
unitary  and  autocratic,  the  other  federal  and  demo- 
cratic, Russia  and  Austria,  exhibited  before  the  ruin 
of  both  much  bravery,  but  only  moderate  efficiency, 
and  that  the  British  democracy,  so  styled,  is  socially 
aristocratic,  politically  monarchical,  and  administra- 
tively oligarchical.  Were  the  parallels  we  so  stupidly 
institute  in  any  way  valid,  France  should  be  the  least 
efficient  in  war,  autocratic  Russia  would  have  been 
the  most,  and  the  others  in  the  order  of  England 
first,  Austria-Hungary  second,  Italy  third.  To  make 
such  a  statement  is  to  refute  it.  Germany  was  one 
of  the  most  completely  socialized  of  all  existing 
states,  as  politically  it  was  the  most  hierarchical. 
It  was  and  is  bureaucratic  above  all,  in  a  far  lower 
degree  monarchical  and  aristocratic.  The  trained 
functionary  and  uniformed  official  was  and  is  the  type 
German,  supreme  over  military  officer,  over  statesman 
or  hereditary  prince,  king  and  emperor.  The  effi- 
ciency of  the  country  was  neither  military  nor  royal; 
exactly  like  that  of  France,  it  was  bureaucratic. 
I  Both  had  the  efficient,  centralized,  bureaucratic,  ad- 
ministrative speed  and  accuracy,  devised  and  em- 
bodied in  the  struggles  of  the  Napoleonic  age. 

Any  government  can  create  a  bureaucracy.  Russia 
had  one  of  vast  size,  but  its  members  were  individually 
corrupt  and  inefficient,  so  the  whole  was  worthless. 
The  bureaucracy  of  Germany  is  honest  and  industri- 
ous, that  of  France  scarcely  less  so.  The  shameless- 
ness  of  French  "grafting"  is  "higher  up."  Both 
these  bureaucracies  are  ruthless  and  their  members 
impolite;  both  are  mechanical  and  offensive  as  to 
personal  amenity;  and  both  have  exhibited  an  almost 
identical  efficiency.  It  seems  highly  probable,  there- 
fore, that  the  question  of  democracy  and  efficiency 
ought  to  be  discussed  on  the  basis  of  capacity  to  se- 
cure a  civil  service,  whose  rank  and  file  are  honest 


130    DEMOCRACY  AND  EFFICIENCY— I 


and  industrious,  whose  officials  are  honest,  learned, 
and  industrious,  whose  chiefs  are  honest,  learned, 
industrious,  and  faithful,  with  the  eyes  of  Argus  for 
discipline  below,  and  the  popular  welfare  above.  To 
a  high  degree  that  is  what  both  France  and  Germany 
have,  what  Russia  has  not,  what  Great  Britain  has 
secured  only  in  measure,  and  what  our  democracy 
cannot  have  as  long  as  the  highest  and  next  highest 
ranks  in  the  entire  administrative  service,  federal 
and  state,  are  filled  by  political  patronage.  Orderly 
and  efficient  democracy  there  can  be,  provided  its 
members  are  capable  of  co-ordinated  discipline. 

Can  democracy  meet  the  emergencies  of  both 
peace  and  war?  The  democracy  of  this  question  is 
not  the  ideal  scheme  of  philosophers  and  reformers, 
yet  to  be  realized,  but  that  under  which  we  live,  the 
real  working  system  of  government  in  the  United 
States.  There  is,  alas,  even  now  a  very  languid  in- 
terest in  the  reply  among  our  people  at  large.  We 
are  opportunists  firmly  convinced  (or  is  it  stolidly 
confident?),  that  among  floundering  Titans  the  fates 
will  be  kind  to  ours  as  the  most  favored  nation;  that 
like  our  British  congeners  we  can  "muddle  through" 
somehow.  Some  few  of  us,  however,  retain  a  lively 
personal  conscience,  and  many  more  fly  for  refuge  to 
the  newly  discovered  social  conscience:  for  these  the 
reply  to  the  question  must  be  categorically  direct. 
No  shuffling  answer  will  suffice;  just  a  plain  and 
clarion  Yes  or  No,  the  answer.  Which  is  it?  Thus 
driven  to  bay,  every  sane  and  intelligent  American 
would,  especially  in  the  light  of  recent  experience, 
explosively  declare  in  the  affirmative.  And  this 
would  be  the  unconscious  residuum  of  painstaking 
observation,  careful  consideration  of  the  elements  in 
the  case,  and  critical  analysis,  not  at  all  of  instinctive 
bravado. 

We  are  no  longer  in  our  political  nonage.  Among 


DEMOCRACY  AND  EFFICIENCY— I  131 


existing  states  we  are  one  of  the  two  or  three  oldest, 
and  the  written  constitution  under  which  we  live  is 
the  oldest  of  all  existing  constitutions,  written  or 
unwritten.  The  present  constitution  of  Great  Britain 
really  dates  from  1832.  We  have  had  a  far  longer  and 
richer  experience  in  the  political  education  of  every 
type  of  citizen  than  any  other  democracy.  The  re- 
sults are  matter  of  history.  The  real  test  of  institu- 
tions is  their  strength  in  peace,  and  in  no  true  sense 
of  the  word  have  we  ever  had  a  revolution.  The  war 
of  1776  confirmed  the  long  evolution  of  our  "conti- 
nental" political  principles  as  a  protest  against  the 
insular;  the  War  of  18 12  secured  a  higher,  though 
far  from  complete,  commercial  independence;  the 
war  of  1848  was  a  relegation  of  intolerable  meddling 
to  its  semi-barbarous  origins;  the  Spanish  War  had 
a  similar  purpose,  though  we  were  fighting  dirt  and 
infection  physically  as  well  as  politically.  The  Civil 
War  was  the  grim  array  of  economic  and  humani- 
tarian forces.  Even  had  it  resulted  otherwise  than 
it  did  there  would  have  been  merely  a  fork,  a  delta, 
in  the  stream  of  political  continuity,  but  no  break. 
Our  democracy  has  not  yet  deliberately  gone  to  war 
for  self-preservation,  still  less  for  the  perpetuation  of 
party  rule.  Our  primary  purpose  was  the  main- 
tenance of  justice,  honor,  and  self-respect. 

It  is,  on  the  other  hand,  a  truism  that  the  efificiency 
of  a  people  and  its  government,  what  is  termed  "prac- 
tical ability,"  is  more  thoroughly  tested  in  the  strain 
of  war  than  in  peace.  The  alliance  between  pure 
and  applied  science,  asserted  to  be  at  the  basis  of 
contemporary  civilization,  can  best  exhibit  its  novel- 
ties and  wares  in  the  engineering  of  destruction  and 
transportation:  the  democratic  temper  can  be  tested 
to  the  limit  by  the  self-denial  essential  to  the  quick, 
effective  organization  which  hurls  one  social  force 
against  another.    Although  we  are  not  ourselves,  as 


132    DEMOCRACY  AND  EPTICIENCY— I 


a  people  or  personally,  fond  of  participating  in  the 
risk  and  peril  of  war,  yet  we  have  tenacity  of  purpose 
and  a  lively  sense  of  shame  in  failure.  Every  single 
war  so  far  waged  has  required  disproportionate 
periods  of  preparation,  and  at  every  crisis  we  have 
fallen  back,  perforce,  on  conscription,  bounties,  and 
pensions — both  in  the  Revolution  and  the  Civil  War, 
at  least — the  minor  ones  did  not  produce  quite  the 
same  acute  necessity. 

We  heartily  dislike  to  subordinate  ourselves,  while 
we  delight  in  the  subordination  of  others;  yet  under 
compulsion,  physical  or  moral,  we  yield  gracefully  and 
resourcefully  to  what  we  call  coordination  and  dis- 
cipline. In  the  invention  of  murderous  devices  we  are 
second  to  none,  from  the  submarine  to  the  latest  poison 
gas  and  death-dealing  shrapnel,  and  we  are  fairly 
versed  in  their  application,  as  witness  Manila  Bay, 
Santiago,  and  the  Argonne.  In  the  sphere  of  histor- 
ical production,  military  history  has  asserted  its  parity 
with  political,  and  with  economic  or  civil,  or  popular, 
history,  as  it  is  nebulously  styled.  Down  to  a  very 
recent  moment  we  contemplated  with  strange  equa- 
nimity the  antiquated  system  of  a  hireling  soldiery 
and  neither  party,  when  in  power,  has  dared  to  lay 
a  hand  on  our  preposterous  pension  system,  as  it  did 
not  until  the  breaking  stress  came  on  the  rather  in- 
significant, but  quite  the  most  extravagant,  military 
system,  by  land  and  sea,  so  far  known  to  social  ex- 
perience. Nowhere  do  pensioners  and  active  ofificers 
accept  the  public  bounty  with  more  self-respect; 
and  our  democracy,  for  whatever  recondite  cause,  is 
vastly  more  lavish  and  liberal  in  giving  than  any 
older  and  less  complex  system  of  state  organization. 
Our  public  servants  are  richly  paid  in  honor,  but 
their  cash  salaries  would  be,  and  are,  elsewhere  con- 
sidered princely.  They  have  the  double  reward, 
cash  and  glory.    France  is  the  land  where  we  sow 


DEMOCRACY  AND  EFFICIENCY— I  133 


offices  and  reap  taxes — said  one  of  her  own  famous 
sons.    This  is  likewise  true  in  America. 

Our  victories  in  treaty-making  and  at  the  council- 
board  have  been  no  less  remarkable  than  the  wars 
which  they  ended.  So  much  so  that  we  are  consid- 
ered as  the  spoiled  child  among  great  powers.  Who  is 
to  dissect  out  the  nerve  ganglia  of  diplomacy  with  their 
aflferent  and  efferent  ducts,  and  prove  any  unfairness 
on  our  part  at  any  point  in  the  beginning,  conduct,  and 
close  of  our  wars  ?  Mere  physical  force  is  not  the 
whole  of  warfare,  nor  moral  right  neither.  It  was 
not  luck  which  has  brought  us  so  far  on  our  warlike 
way,  nor,  on  the  other  hand,  has  military  aptitude 
played  the  decisive  role.  The  true  efficiency  of  our 
democracy  lies  in  its  perfectly  sane  and  sensible 
optimism,  or  meliorism,  rather;  the  sanction  with 
which  it  enforces  its  policies  is  the  conviction  of  other 
states  that  we  are  eager  to  learn,  that  our  motives  are 
no  more  selfish  than  their  own,  and  that  we  can 
exploit  our  latent  moral  resources  as  readily  and 
successfully  as  we  have  developed  our  material 
wealth. 

We  were  the  first  to  discern  the  coming  transforma- 
tion of  the  state  system  of  Europe  into  the  world 
system  of  European  states,  a  transformation  which, 
in  the  relentless  sequence  of  earthquake  shocks,  con- 
vulses civilization  periodically,  and  we  delimited  our 
sphere  of  influence  in  America  long  before  the  Eu- 
ropeans were  clear  as  to  how  they  should  partition 
the  eastern  continent  among  themselves.  They  have 
paid  us  the  compliment  of  the  closest  imitation.  It 
is  highly  probable  that  despite  the  proclamation  of 
moral  sanction  as  the  sufficient  cement  for  a  league 
to  enforce  peace,  they  will  strive  to  adopt  us  into  the 
quarrelsome  family  of  jealous  world  states,  even  to 
the  extent  of  a  combination  to  fall  upon  us  and  crush 
our  outposts.    But  so  far  our  position  in  the  diplo- 


134    DEMOCRACY  AND  EFFICIENCY— I 


matic  world  is  not  due  to  the  training  of  our  agents, 
who  are  mostly  plain,  sincere  men  of  no  experience; 
nor  to  bluster,  nor  to  tact,  nor  to  alliances,  nor  to 
trickery,  nor  to  falsehood,  but  to  the  undeveloped 
possibilities  of  efficient  power  discernible  to  European 
sentinels,  and  to  our  defiant  contentment  with  the 
happy  lot  which  we  are  sure  to  preserve  or  perish  in 
the  effort  to  preserve.  They  think  us  self-complacent 
and  nothing  is  more  distasteful  to  the  self-complacent 
themselves  than  self-complacency  in  others. 

As  a  matter  of  fact  self-depreciation  is  the  out- 
standing characteristic  of  the  American.  It  is  some- 
times a  form  of  false  pride,  but  more  often  a  virtue 
due  to  humility  and  the  zest  for  higher  things.  There 
is,  however,  no  cringing  servility  in  it,  whatever  its 
cause.  What  passes  for  such  among  our  rich  in  for- 
eign lands  is  a  perfectly  innocent  desire  to  learn  how 
the  rich  elsewhere  have  spent  their  incomes  with 
elegance  and  refinement.  There  is  far  more  servility 
in  those  who  pursue  learning,  literature,  and  art  than 
in  the  plutocracy,  but  it  is  due  to  the  same  cause. 
"Get  the  best"  is  here  among  us  a  call  of  universal 
appeal,  so  much  so  that  the  supreme  worth  to  a  na- 
tional civilization  of  originality  and  creative  power, 
however  crude,  is  frequently  forgotten.  To  enforce 
this  fact  should  be  the  chiefest  task  of  our  national 
academies,  both  of  science  and  of  the  fine  arts.  We 
have  been  apprentices  too  long.  If  we  have  one 
duty  more  solemn  than  others,  it  is  to  take  stock  of 
each  successive  stage  of  democratic  society,  to  thresh 
the  grain  and  winnow  out  the  chaff ;  to  find  and  give 
solid  home-grown  nourishment  to  the  oncoming  gen- 
eration. Of  course  we  can  only  know  ourselves  in 
part,  but  we  can  know,  and  while  the  glass  may  re- 
flect but  darkly  the  historian  dare  not  withhold  the 
vision  because  it  is  dim.  The  dim  and  darkling 
American  is  at  least  a  respectable  figure  while  he 


DEMOCRACY  AND  EFFICIENCY— I  135 


gropes  for  his  own,  and  becomes  contemptible  only 
when  aping  the  genius  of  others. 

Literary  and  artistic  effort  for  inspiration  from  the 
time  gone  by  is  noble;  the  muse  of  history  is  a  gen- 
erous contributor  to  the  present  in  all  lands.  Equally 
inspiring  is  close  contact  with  the  movement  of  the 
hour  in  every  branch  of  the  civilization  which  is  a 
unit  in  its  closer  interrelations.  But  there  is  some- 
thing more,  far  higher  and  nobler,  which  is  the  recog- 
nition of  essentials  in  the  life  of  which  we  ourselves 
are  a  part.  The  genius  of  democracy  is  coy,  and  re- 
veals herself  only  to  the  ardent  wooer.  Sometimes 
she  seems  a  forward  huzzy,  sometimes  a  statuesque 
and  unapproachable  divinity,  sometimes  a  white  and 
spiritual  fugitive,  but  to  those  who  seek  in  humility 
she  is  kind  and  winsome,  the  revelation  of  perfectible 
womanhood,  the  homely  soul  of  humility  at  its  best. 
The  strongest  evidence  of  efficiency  in  American 
democracy  is  its  keen  discernment  of  its  own  nature, 
its  versatility  and  originality  in  supplying  the  wants 
of  its  nature,  its  contemptuous  disregard  for  junk  in 
all  the  arts,  pure  and  applied.  We  may  differ  as  to 
the  degree  of  our  attainments  in  this  respect,  but  not 
in  the  fact. 

The  wonder  of  the  present  age  is  not  the  misgov- 
ernment  of  our  democratic  cities,  a  grave  disease 
yielding  to  remedies,  but  it  is  the  monumental  sky- 
scraper, the  street  transportation  on,  over,  and  under 
the  ground,  the  stupendous  aqueducts,  the  equally 
amazing  power  and  lighting  plants,  perhaps  most 
wonderful  of  all  our  parks,  playgrounds,  hospitals, 
and  museums,  the  most  democratically  efficient  of 
all  civic  devices  because  the  least  touched  by  mer- 
cantilism. What  is  commodious  is  beautiful  so  far, 
and  commodity  is  the  characteristic  of  city  life  in 
America;  that  the  higher  beauty  emerges  from  it, 
in  spots  at  least,  is  beginning  to  be  understood.  To 


136   DEMOCRACY  AND  EFFICIENCY— I 


this  fact  more  than  to  any  other  is  due  the  irresisti- 
ble lure  of  the  city.  Happiness  is  not  a  result  of  cir- 
cumstances, though  misery  may  be.  Feeling  is  the 
condition  of  happiness,  and  that  feeling  is  given  freer 
play  in  our  democracy  than  elsewhere.  We  earn  more 
and  spend  more  for  the  same  results  than  other 
societies  have  done,  our  residuum  of  gain  is  no  larger; 
but  our  sense  of  worth  is  higher,  the  gratification  of 
self-respect  more  complete.  To  wear  good  clothes, 
to  stroll  and  stare,  to  enjoy  majesty  of  size  and  beauty 
of  prospect,  to  feel  ourselves  even  an  insignificant 
part  of  the  human  pageant;  these  and  other  delights 
account  for  the  solid  hold  which  an  efficient  democ- 
racy in  city  life  has  upon  the  millions  who  prize  them 
as  an  earthly  good. 

We  were  once  vainglorious  because  our  democracy 
seemed  so  efficient  in  the  matter  of  assimilation. 
We  welcomed  white  men  of  every  shade,  of  every 
race,  of  every  degree  of  culture,  we  were  an  asylum 
of  the  down-trodden  and  oppressed  among  Cau- 
casians. Neither  the  brown  nor  the  yellow  nor  the 
black  man  was  ever  a  welcome  guest.  But  we  were 
perfectly  sure  that  all  these  others  would,  in  a  twink- 
ling, cease  to  be  aliens  and  share  our  inheritance  as 
devoted  fellow-workers  in  repairing,  strengthening, 
and  upholding  the  pillars  of  state;  our  language, 
morals,  institutions,  and  laws.  We  were  rather  proud 
of  the  phrase  "melting-pot."  It  was  with  compla- 
cency that  we  saw  all  the  elements  cast  in,  and  that 
we  watched  the  stream  of  pure  metal,  for  there  was 
such  a  stream,  strong  and  full,  flow  into  the  moulds 
from  the  tap.  Somehow  we  did  not  consider  the 
dross  and  slag;  that  there  must  be  a  scum  at  the 
top  and  a  valueless  residuum  at  the  bottom.  It 
was  enough  that  the  democratic  pot  was  efficiently 
boiling  and  the  furnace  roaring  with  the  blasts  of 
Americanism. 


DEMOCRACY  AND  EFFICIENCY— I  137 


It  now  seems  that  we  did  not,  in  spite  of  many 
warnings,  analyze  the  situation  discriminatingly. 
There  comes  a  rude  awakening  in  the  periodic  re- 
surgence of  ancestral  loyalty,  until  at  times  we  feel 
as  if  there  were  no  Americans  of  American  nationality, 
just  British  and  German  and  Italian,  and  what-not 
colonials.  When  the  passions  of  Europe  rage  so  do 
ours,  attuned  to  the  discords  of  the  respective  stocks 
from  which  we  sprang,  either  in  the  long-ago  or  at 
the  latest  date.  It  is  a  patent  truth,  even  to  the 
wayfarer,  that  we  are  all  here  either  because  our 
forebears  were  not  wanted  there,  even  in  the  pent- 
house of  their  ancestry,  or  because  they  were  them- 
selves discontented.  In  most  cases  there  was  a  dis- 
content on  one  side  or  the  other,  or  on  both,  so  bitter 
that  the  social  and  political  life  of  America  seemed 
a  blessed  asylum,  and  there  was  corresponding  en- 
thusiasm for  what  was  found  and  what  seemed  per- 
manent: in  short  a  sound  and  trustworthy  loyalty 
to  home  and  country,  not  a  temporary  devotion  to 
place  and  circumstance,  the  while  fortunes  were 
mended.  This  was  the  gold.  How  different  seems 
the  case  in  the  hours  of  soul  trial  when  there  proves 
to  be  abundant  dross  and  slag  in  every  social  stratum, 
when  passion  reverts  to  source,  and  the  past  domi- 
nates both  present  and  future.  What  shall  American 
democracy  do  with  the  dumping  of  such  refuse  across 
its  path?  Is  our  democratic  state  of  mind  enough 
of  a  leverage  to  enforce  efficiency  for  bursting  the  dam 
and  restoring  the  flow  of  democratic  patriotism  ? 

About  this  there  can  be  no  certitude,  but  there  can 
be  a  high  degree  of  probability,  and  the  probability 
is  favorable  in  a  delicately  balanced  sense.  All 
Europe  has  become  American  in  a  measure.  Every 
civilization  thus  obtruded  on  our  way  has,  however 
late  in  the  day,  come  to  assert  its  democracy  and  its 
liberty;    everywhere  there  is  a  measure  of  both. 


138    DEMOCRACY  AND  EFFICIENCY— I 


Even  voluntary  servitude  is  liberty,  because  it  is 
voluntary;  any  servitude  is  freedom  as  long  as  it  is 
self-imposed,  and  the  majority  is  always  stronger 
in  moral  and  physical  power  than  the  minority, 
strong  enough  to  reject  the  old  and  adopt  the  de- 
sired new  form  at  its  leisure.  After  all  orderly  life 
of  every  kind  is  servitude:  time  enough  to  change 
the  yoke.  The  colored  races,  yellow,  brown,  and 
black  think  little  of  liberty  in  any  true  sense;  when 
they  do  it  is  in  some  such  terms.  Does  this  seem  a 
juggling  with  words?  It  is  the  stern,  solemn  rea- 
soned conviction  of  the  great  mass  of  white  mankind, 
even  of  Russia,  and  with  rare  exceptions  of  the 
Orient  generally. 

Then  there  is  the  liberty  which  takes  the  form  of 
subordinating  a  segment  of  interest  from  all  individ- 
uals to  the  interest  of  organized  government  or  the 
state.  This  subordination  may  be  glad  and  volun- 
tary, personally  initiated  and  freely  given;  or  it  may 
be  indifferent,  mechanical,  and  compulsory.  There 
may  also  be  the  widest  difference  in  scope,  the  least 
government  and  the  most.  To  the  state  may  be 
entrusted  the  whole  cultural  movement:  politics, 
domestic  and  foreign;  the  law,  civil,  criminal,  and 
international;  the  economic  control;  the  patronage 
of  education,  literature,  and  art.  Manifestly  there 
still  remains  for  the  individual  a  wide  field  for  the 
exercise  of  choice,  however  broad  the  scope  of  govern- 
ment. There  will  still  be  the  question  of  duty  and 
the  categorical  imperative;  the  surrender  of  much, 
willing  or  unwilling,  to  constituted  authority  is  in  it- 
self regarded  as  duty  and  self-denial,  what  is  left 
affords  sufficient  opportunity  for  ethical  exercise. 
This  presupposes,  of  course,  a  purely  utilitarian  sys- 
tem of  public  and  private  morals,  that  most  favora- 
ble to  what  Lecky  called  industrial  virtue.  To  the 
mysterious  state  is  left  the  care  of  religion,  or  its 


DEMOCRACY  AND  EFFICIENCY— I  139 


substitute  aesthetics,  i.  e.,  of  all  cultural  forces,  the 
fine  arts,  the  drama,  music,  and  romantic  beauty  in 
nature,  all  of  which  are  sacred  because  of  their  moral 
nature,  and  because  in  Hegel's  words  the  state  is  the 
ethical  spirit  as  incarnate,  self-conscious,  substantial 
will.  Such  a  doctrine  of  liberty  is  very  real,  it  has 
during  four  or  five  generations  been  more  completely 
realized  than  any  other,  and  results  in  the  dreaded 
German  resignation  and  unity  of  to-day. 


X 


DEMOCRACY  AND  EFFICIENCY — II 

HUMANITARIAN  LIBERTY  OF  DOUBTFUL  VALUE — ABUSE  OF  THE  WORD 
"ideal" — PERVERSION   OF   MEANING   IN   THE    WORD    "NATURAL" — 

LIMITATIONS  ON  THE  SENSE  OF  "EQUALITY" — THE  NEW  SLAVERY  

OUR  STATES  AS  LABORATORIES  FOR  THE  TESTING  OF  NOVELTIES — NEW 
FORMS  OF  TOWN  AND  CITY  GOVERNMENT— DEMOCRACY  AND  PETTY 
REVOLUTIONS — DEMOCRACY  EFFICIENT  IN  WAR — BATTLE  WITH  RADI- 
CALISM— TRANSFORMATION    IN    DEMOCRACY    AT    WAR— LEADERSHIP  

DEMOCRACY  AND  STRATEGY — GOVERNMENT  A  DEISTIC  CONCEPTION  

DEMOCRACY  AND  THE  DIVINE  RIGHT  OF  THE  PEOPLE — INCONSISTEN- 
CIES OF  ALL  GOVERNMENTS — THE  ABNEGATION  OF  EXTREMES. 

But  there  is  still  another  doctrine  of  liberty  result- 
ing from  belief  in  a  system  of  morals  as  based  on 
self-control  and  benevolence,  producing  personal  hero- 
ism, on  the  one  hand,  and  amiability  on  the  other. 
This  type  of  liberty  demands  the  free  and  complete 
exercise  in  each  adult,  not  of  some  but  of  all  the  fac- 
ulties, moral  and  intellectual,  of  every  activity  with- 
out exception,  with  one  single  reserve:  respect  for 
the  corresponding  liberty  of  others.  This  ideal  of 
liberty  has  no  place  for,  no  sphere  of,  subordination. 
It  seems  to  forget  duty  and  the  categorical  impera- 
tive, and  certainly  knows  nothing  of  superiors  or 
inferiors.  It  is  simply  accommodation  of  individual 
to  general  interest,  of  personal  rights  to  those  of  the 
community,  the  word  being  used  in  the  sense  of  so- 
ciety in  general,  and  not  in  the  sense  of  a  restricted 
community  like  that  of  the  state  or  of  one  state, 
but  a  community  of  all  humanity,  of  the  most  widely 
inclusive  society  of  mankind.  Such  is  the  most  ad- 
vanced ideal  of  humanitarian  liberty,  and  for  the  sub- 
stantial accuracy  of  this  statement  the  reader  will 
find  abundant  proof  in  the  war  literature  of  France, 
and  even  of  liberal  England.    This  liberty,  and  this 

140 


DEMOCRACY  AND  EFFICIENCY— II  141 


alone,  is  asserted  to  be  moral,  the  standard  of  all 
that  is  pleasant  and  elegant  in  west  European  civiliza- 
tion; and  its  supporters  believe  it  to  be  democratic 
above  all  other  conceptions  of  the  term  democratic. 
They  do  not  suggest  its  immediate  efficiency,  facts 
are  to  the  contrary  alike  in  war  and  in  peace.  But 
its  ultimate  efficiency  is  predicted  with  the  most  con- 
fident assurance.  The  significant  omission  from  the 
discussion  is  that  of  equality,  that  will  o*  the  wisp 
word,  which  for  a  hundred  and  fifty  years  has  misled 
us  all  by  its  sound  rather  than  its  substance,  which 
was  tenuous  at  best,  and  insufficient  to  feed  the  steady 
fires  of  efficiency. 

Two  other  words  must  likewise  be  held  to  strict 
account  in  their  use  and  meaning.  These  are  the 
terms  "ideal"  and  "natural."  A  true  ideal,  as  a 
possible  standard  of  duty  to  be  held  high  and  measur- 
ably attained  is  one  thing;  an  ideal  as  a  visionary 
and  fantastic  unreality,  the  stuff  of  dreams,  is  quite 
another.  The  perpetual  confusion  of  the  two  con- 
cepts by  presumptuous  ignorance  has  become  intol- 
erable because  it  is  so  subtle — and  very  dangerous  it 
also  is,  because  of  the  strong  appeal  in  its  gilded 
vanity.  The  word  "natural"  is  equally  exasperating 
in  the  world  of  morals.  The  natural  history  of  the 
state  in  the  light  of  biological  research  seems  to  in- 
dicate a  "natural"  man,  the  earliest  possible  being 
deserving  that  name,  as  physically  weak  and  helpless, 
but  mentally  of  high  endowment.  This  fact,  if  a 
fact,  indicates  a  political  animal  in  Aristotle's  sense 
of  the  phrase,  already  possessed  of  unwarped  though 
rudimentary  moral  gifts,  and  likewise  capable  both 
of  further  political  acquisition  and  of  a  special  type 
of  development  on  lines  peculiar  to  himself;  lines 
open  to  no  other  sentient  being. 

In  human  evolution  there  is  almost  certainly  no  in- 
heritance of  acquired  physical  character;  but  language, 


142    DEMOCRACY  AND  EFFICIENCY— II 


written  or  spoken,  produces  both  education  and  en- 
vironment, which  ahke  overmaster  physical  obstacles 
and  enlarge  spiritual  resources.  This  "natural"  man 
is  quite  a  different  person  from  the  savage,  degraded 
"natural"  man,  gorilla-like  and  utterly  brutish,  so 
persistently  connoted  by  the  term  in  the  overwhelm- 
ing bulk  of  discussion  on  the  subject  of  origins.  Inas- 
much as  even  natural  law  is  emphatically  declared 
by  our  foremost  men  of  natural  science  to  be  no  longer 
absolute  uniformity,  and  to  embrace  the  widest  varia- 
tions, we  would  have  more  clear  thinkmg  if  we  could 
invent  and  use  vocables  for  "ideal,"  and  "natural" 
and  "law"  with  the  real  and  precise  meaning  those 
words  now  possess  in  the  scheme  of  our  painfully  and 
laboriously  acquired  present-day  knowledge. 

"Equality"  in  the  moral  sense  we  must  dispense 
with;  "equality"  in  any  other  sense  is  a  notion 
erroneous  and  impossible.  Lincoln  asserted  that  the 
American  nation  was  "dedicated  to  the  proposition 
that  all  men  are  created  equal,"  and  again  that  the 
Civil  War  had  been  fought  to  test  whether  a  nation 
"so  conceived  and  so  dedicated  can  long  endure." 
He  had  an  ideal  which  was  believed  possible  of  at- 
tainment. He  knew  how  far  distant  was  the  goal, 
and  that  the  conflict  for  its  realization  would  be  long 
and  bitter.  But  he  did  not  and  could  not  foresee 
that  the  intestine  foe  of  slavery,  then  just  vanquished, 
was  a  Lilliputian  compared  to  the  socialistic,  un- 
speakable, and  monstrous  Frankenstein,  which  our 
generation,  beholding  aghast  its  devastating  work  in 
eastern  Europe  for  a  space  of  well  nigh  two  long 
years,  has  to  imprison  and  strangle,  if  Lincoln's  ideal 
is  even  to  be  struggled  for.  His  mild  and  gentle 
sadness  in  contemplating  the  possible  deflection  of 
the  nation  from  that  ideal  of  struggle  for  a  principle, 
might  well  have  turned  to  despair  could  he  have 
foreseen  the  new  slavery  which  by  socialistic  and 


DEMOCRACY  AND  EFFICIENCY— II  143 


class  legislation,  through  the  needless  and  perpetual 
interference  of  place-holders  with  private  affairs, 
through  class  legislation  of  every  sort,  a  free  democ- 
racy deliberately  creates,  engendering  political  in- 
equality, emphasizing  social  inequality,  and  building 
an  impregnable  fortress  for  economic  inequality. 

Our  slavery  is  worse  than  that  which  he  abhorred 
and  abolished,  because  it  embraces  the  whole  and 
not  a  part  of  the  nation;  worse,  too,  not  only  in  ex- 
tent but  in  degree,  because  it  deprives  us  both  of  the 
pleasures  of  hope  and  the  stimulus  to  labor.  The 
links  in  the  chains  of  this  slavery  are  forged  and  bent 
but  not  welded;  it  has  been  a  terrible  waste  of  time 
to  manufacture  them  because  when  they  really  begin 
to  gall  they  will  be  flung  to  the  junk-heap  of  other 
political  fads.  The  multiplication  of  places,  the 
shameless  use  of  place-bribery,  far  more  harmful 
than  money-bribery,  the  heaping  up  of  crushing 
taxes,  all  this  is  attracting  attention,  and  it  is  need- 
less to  fear  if  only  we  act.  But  the  longer  we  remain 
supine  the  more  difficult  and  exhausting  will  be  the 
effort  at  release.  Democracy  cannot  mean  self-anni- 
hilation, whatever  may  be  the  meaning  we  attach  to 
the  word.  How  efficient  its  existing  political  devices 
may  prove  is  in  the  lap  of  the  gods :  auto-intoxication 
is  an  insidious  disease,  and  needs  watching. 

Such  considerations  of  the  efficiency  resulting  from 
the  democratic  state  of  mind  while  the  nation  is  at 
peace  may  seem  to  digress  somewhat  from  the  con- 
crete. But  they  do  not.  The  States  of  this  republic 
are  laboratories  for  testing  remedial  measures.  Natu- 
rally the  public  attention  turns  with  intense  interest 
to  novelties  and  their  engrafting  on  the  old  system, 
but  we  are  less  alert  to  the  steady  unbroken  process 
of  discarding  those  which  prove  to  be  worthless. 
Many  measures  which  secure  a  place  on  the  statute 
book  are  not  enforced,  and  fall  into  desuetude;  many 


144    DEMOCRACY  AND  EFFICIENCY— II 


are  enthusiastically  repealed  either  by  legislation  or 
by  omission  from  the  state  constitutions  made  at 
intervals  by  conventions  and  adopted  by  plebiscite. 

The  most  striking  instance  is  that  of  city  or  town 
government.  It  was  natural  to  imitate  the  state 
and  federal  form  at  the  outset.  After  innumerable 
modifications  and  patchings  the  general  disgust  with 
its  failures  has  relegated  it  to  the  discard,  and  al- 
ready some  hundreds  of  towns  and  cities  distributed 
throughout  the  Union  have  adopted  a  successful 
substitute,  called  commission  government.  Its  un- 
questioned efficiency  is  decried  as  undemocratic  only 
by  loose  or  tricky  thinkers  whose  self-interest  is  op- 
posed to  the  common  good.  Most  of  our  common- 
wealths once  believed  in  and  insisted  on  very  short 
terms  of  office.  These  had  until  lately  been  steadily 
lengthened,  either  by  legal  or  extra-legal  devices. 
Through  fear  of  unworthy  political  office-holders,  they 
are  again  being  shortened. 

Jefferson,  as  elsewhere  explained,  thought  the  Ameri- 
can system  demanded  petty  revolutions  in  a  violent 
way  at  rather  frequent  intervals,  and  a  formal  assent 
from  the  governed  every  half  generation  of  man- 
kind. The  revolutions  do  occur,  but  not  as  he  con- 
templated :  they  are  institutional,  and  assent  is  given 
or  withheld  at  ordinary  elections,  for  the  most  part. 
The  governor  of  a  Southern  State  asserted,  however, 
very  recently  and  in  a  Northern  capital,  that  when 
mobs  cease  liberty  is  at  an  end !  Such  instances 
serve  to  prove  that,  as  our  system  stands,  the  demo- 
cratic state  of  mind  creates,  slowly  perhaps,  but 
eventually,  high  efficiency  in  administration  with  an 
unsuspected  contempt  for  the  demagogue  shouting 
tyranny  at  every  innovation,  and  does  its  creative 
work  by  a  slow  and  painful,  but  scrupulous  and  safe, 
process  of  experimentation,  of  careful  definition,  of 
sound  construction,  and  of  verification. 


DEMOCRACY  AND  EFFICIENCY— II  145 


The  efficiency  of  democracy  in  war  has  been  a  sub- 
ject of  anxious  speculation.  History  proves  nothing. 
That  of  the  ancient  world  exhibits  one  so-called 
democracy  conquered  by  another  exactly  as  one 
Oriental  tyranny  was  stricken  to  death  by  another. 
The  Chinese  republic  is  no  more  helpless  than  was 
the  Chinese  monarchy,  and  no  less  so.  The  mon- 
archical aristocracy  of  Japan,  half-democratized  as 
it  claims  to  be,  is  certainly  more  efficiently  bellicose 
than  was  the  divine-right  monarchy  of  a  century  ago. 
Medieeval  Europe,  feudal  or  absolutist,  can  afford  no 
instruction  because  readiness  for  battle  was  daily 
life  throughout  the  dark  ages,  like  daily  bread.  Ad- 
ministration of  law  and  the  arts  of  peace  were  only 
an  avocation. 

When  we  regard  modern  times  there  is  nothing 
but  contradictory  evidence.  The  British  revolution 
of  1688  was  bloodless.  Our  revolution  of  1776  ex- 
hibits a  year  of  warlike  feebleness  crowned  at  Prince- 
ton by  a  triumph  of  strategic  genius,  and  carried  to 
its  conclusion  by  an  alliance  with  the  wavering  abso- 
lutism of  Louis  XVI.  The  French  Revolution  began 
with  a  radical  democratic  efficiency  which  consumed 
itself  and  the  struggle  ended  in  the  crushing  of  the 
imperial  democracy  which  succeeded  it  by  efficient 
absolutism.  Yet  at  each  of  these  epochs  the  demo- 
cratic temper  of  enlightenment  was  the  foundation 
on  which  surviving  absolutism  builded  the  efficiency 
of  its  armies.  The  example  of  Cromwell's  Ironsides 
had  not  been  lost,  and  hireling  soldiery  were  being 
replaced  by  the  mighty  men  both  of  rank  and  file, 
whose  first  concern  was  the  liberation  of  their  country 
as  a  means  to  the  end  of  personal  liberty  under  a 
system  of  freedom.  Democracy  of  that  sort  was  the 
life-blood  of  victory,  even  when  the  administrative 
system  was  anything  but  democratic. 

Freedom  from  what?    Liberty  for  what?   At  the 


146    DEMOCRACY  AND  EFFICIENCY— II 


close  of  the  Napoleonic  epoch,  conservatives  answered : 
freedom  from  outside  meddling  in  the  domestic  affairs 
of  any  folk,  people,  nation,  state;  liberty  to  respect 
existing  customs  and  obey  existing  laws,  with  peace- 
ful agitation  for  newer  ones.  Radicalism  answered: 
freedom  from  every  restraint,  even  domestic;  liberty 
to  defy  law  and  custom  without  any  unpleasant  con- 
sequences, social  or  political.  Both  these  doctrines 
of  freedom  and  liberty  have  existed  and  worked  side 
by  side  throughout  the  latest  epoch  of  democracy. 
In  some  nations  as  in  Germany,  the  conservative  has 
prevailed;  in  others,  as  in  France,  the  radical.  It 
seems  as  if  in  Anglo-Saxondom,  that  useful  but  sense- 
less term  for  a  well-understood  system,  the  latter 
were  gaining  the  overhand,  as  it  generally  does  during 
a  long  period  of  peace. 

"I  must  have  liberty  withal,  as  large  a  charter  as 
the  wind,"  said  the  melancholy  Jacques,  "to  blow  on 
whom  I  please."  This  is  the  democracy  of  peace, 
but  that  of  war  is  quite  another  matter.  Beneath, 
above,  and  around  the  democracy  of  war  is  liberty  to 
choose  superiors,  to  serve  and  to  sacrifice;  the  lib- 
erty of  stern  duty,  freedom  from  selfishness.  Radical 
democracy  in  war  spurns  subordination  and  promotes 
coordination;  conservative  democracy  exacts  subor- 
dination and  obedience  to  authority,  once  consti- 
tuted. It  supports  the  administration,  the  other 
hampers  it.  One  is  quick  and  determined ;  the  other 
noisy  and  impulsive,  or  else  sullen  and  silent.  Radi- 
cals cry  peace  when  there  is  no  peace,  and  invite  at- 
tack by  unreadiness;  conservatives  prevent  war  by 
preparedness  for  it  in  time  of  peace.  The  latter  con- 
centrate responsibility  in  elected  officials  for  long 
terms,  the  former  swap  horses  while  crossing  the 
stream.  To  these,  any  man  suffices  for  any  emerg- 
ency at  any  instant;  to  those,  confidence  in  experi- 
ence, character,  and  previous  training  is  axiomatic. 


DEMOCRACY  AND  EFFICIENCY— II  147 


Competency  and  efficiency  on  one  side,  on  the  other 
unshaken  faith  in  all  human  nature  and  trust  in 
spontaneity,  as  the  lively  hope  of  victory !  Spon- 
taneity has  gone  far,  will  go  far  again;  but  ultimate 
victory  comes  when  the  holocausts  of  human  victims 
have  been  offered  at  its  shrine  and  after  one  most 
gifted  man  has  been  made  responsible  and  has  welded 
his  self-willed  democrats  into  obedient  ironsides. 
Cromwell  did  this;  Napoleon  did  it;  neither  proved 
able  either  to  make  a  lasting  peace  or  to  triumph 
as  a  peaceful  administrator.  Yet  emergency  requires 
the  man,  and  if  he  come  forward  as  did  Lincoln  and 
Grant  the  country  is  saved  nationally,  institutionally, 
and  morally.  The  close  of  our  Civil  War  was  the 
conclusive  proof  of  democratic  efficiency  in  war  as 
well  as  in  peace.  The  conqueror  firmly  commanded 
a  peace,  and  dismissed  himself  with  a  veteran  sol- 
diery to  peaceful  pursuits,  while  a  democratic  people, 
blended  of  radicals  and  conservatives,  promptly,  over- 
hastily,  perhaps,  but  not  ungenerously,  began  the 
work  of  reconciliation  and  reconstruction,  happily 
concluded  within  the  brief  space  of  a  single  generation. 

In  war  the  greatest  thing  is  not  heroism,  nor  scien- 
tific murder,  nor  machinery,  nor  even  discipline  and 
tactics.  It  always  was  and  remains  strategy,  which 
is  the  art  of  winning  victory  with  the  least  possible 
destruction  either  of  life  or  of  property.  Examined 
from  this  point  of  view  monarchy  and  aristocracy 
have,  on  the  whole,  had  the  best  of  it  in  warfare; 
Washington  was  a  consummate  strategist,  and  in  a 
society  like  that  of  eighteenth-century  America,  could 
prove  it.  So  could  Lee  in  the  Civil  War,  emerging 
as  he  did  from  a  similar  society,  and  acting  through 
its  organs.  Probably  McClellan  was  the  prominent 
strategist  and  army-builder  of  the  Northern  side,  but 
his  fondness  for  compromise,  his  stern  militarism,  and 
his  pathetic  concern  for  the  lives  and  well-being  of 


148    DEMOCRACY  AND  EFFICIENCY— II 


his  soldiers  were  so  resented  by  impatient  democ- 
racy as  to  relegate  him  to  temporary  obscurity. 
The  wars  of  radical  democracy  during  the  first  French 
republic,  in  our  own  later  struggles,  and  in  South 
Africa,  were  bloody  and  destructive  of  material  re- 
sources; yes,  even  ruthless  and  unprincipled  and 
atrocious.  Despair  begets  madness  and  scouts  agree- 
ments made  in  time  of  peace  to  ameliorate  warlike 
brutality.  There  is  a  strategy  of  peace  as  well  as  of 
war:  there  would  have  been  no  civil  war  in  America 
had  we  possessed  an  army  proportionate  to  the  then 
existing  navy  in  size,  in  discipline,  and  in  loyalty. 
It  was  a  thoroughly  democratic  navy,  far  more  demo- 
cratic than  the  army,  because  its  personnel  was  far 
removed  in  the  performance  of  duty  from  political 
strife  and  social  pretensions.  It  saw  the  country 
from  without  as  well  as  from  within,  and  the  sailors 
of  every  rank  from  every  section  were,  with  rare  ex- 
ceptions, passionately  loyal  to  the  Union.  Our  navy 
was,  and  remains,  a  superb  example  of  democratic 
efficiency  for  the  purposes  of  defensive  war. 

Provided  we  avoid  the  loose  thinking  that  accom- 
panies uncertain  language,  and  reduce  the  concept 
of  democracy  to  the  definite  limits  expressed  by  a 
state  of  mind,  we  shall  see  the  world  of  to-day  as  it 
is.  Emperor,  king,  president,  consul  or  chief  magis- 
trate, he  is  a  monarch  absolute,  says  the  people, 
while  and  when  he  does  our  will.  Even  the  papacy, 
in  the  opinion  of  the  most  learned  doctors  of  the 
church  throughout  the  ages,  expresses  the  will  of 
God  because  founded  on  the  will  of  the  people:  vox 
populi,  vox  dei.  At  bottom  all  secular  and  political 
thought  is,  though  it  should  not  be,  deistic  rather 
than  theistic,  and  this  god  in  the  form  of  popular 
will,  which  sets  up  states  and  systems,  even  ecclesi- 
astical rule,  is  a  mere  adumbration  of  the  God  who 
created  men  as  political  beings;   political  in  their 


DEMOCRACY  AND  EFFICIENCY— II  149 


embryonic  societies  founded  on  finesse  and  organiza- 
tion, perpetuated  in  brains;  and  by  long-suffering, 
developed  into  nations.  All  government  apparently 
rests  on  the  deistic  concept,  even  democratic  govern- 
ment in  its  narrowest  and  concretest  sense  of  rule  by 
public  opinion,  through  powers  adapted  to  make 
democracy  efficient  alike  in  its  peaceful  evolution, 
and  in  its  defense  against  mob  rule  or  foreign  attack. 
Two  things  are  essential  to  efficiency,  efficient  citizens 
and  an  efficient  system.  Of  neither  is  there  an  abso- 
lute standard. 

In  the  long  vistas  of  democratic  evolution  popular 
opinion  has  employed  every  known  form  of  social 
order  and  organization:  monarchy  and  tyranny, 
aristocracy  and  oligarchy,  politeia  and  democracy. 
Trial  has  been  made  of  despotism,  of  conspiracy,  of 
ochlocracy,  each  and  all  devices  to  put  base  men  into 
power;  each  and  all  they  have  been  discarded,  often 
after  discouraging,  heartrending  struggle  and  sacri- 
fice, but  they  have  been  discarded.  Survivals,  of 
course,  there  are:  of  privilege,  personal  and  class; 
of  unequal  representation  and  legislation,  of  judicial 
perversion  and  misprision  of  justice.  But  for  all 
that  the  diplomacy  of  democracy,  the  moral  and 
material  well-being  under  democracy,  the  swift,  stem 
retort  of  war  by  democracy,  all  alike  stand,  if  not  as 
examples,  at  least  as  encouragements  to  believe  that 
in  nothing  is  democracy  feebler,  and  in  most  things 
healthier,  than  other  systems  of  society  and  politics. 
The  divine  right  of  the  people  is  only  another  form 
of  the  divine  right  of  kings  as  understood  in  our  day. 
The  president  has  just  as  much  divine  right  in  his 
representative  character,  and  of  the  same  kind,  as 
a  hereditary  monarch,  since  everywhere  and  among 
all  classes  of  civilized  men  the  right  to  overturn  a 
throne  is  the  first  article  of  faith. 

Expediency  is,  of  course,  another  matter.  What 


I50    DEMOCRACY  AND  EFFICIENCY— II 


is  expedient  in  the  United  States  of  America  we  our- 
selves admit,  in  practice,  is  inexpedient  and  impossi- 
ble in  the  United  States  of  Mexico.  The  American 
doctrine  of  recognition  was,  for  a  time,  based  on  the 
de  facto  principle;  under  the  changed  conditions  of 
the  Civil  War,  and  of  international  relations  on  this 
continent,  it  has  reverted  to  the  de  jure  principle  in 
many  startling  instances.  Consistency  in  public 
law  and  foreign  policy  is  far  to  seek.  When  Napoleon 
violated  the  neutrality  of  the  little  duchy  of  Anhalt 
there  were  shouts  of  execration  from  all  the  mon- 
archies; when  the  same  monarchies  adopted  the 
Metternich  system  and  violated  the  neutrality  of 
the  two  Sicilies  and  of  Spain  there  was  almost  uni- 
versal applause.  Aristocracies  and  democracies  have 
been  exactly  as  inconsistent,  the  one  as  the  other. 
The  appeal  to  self-preservation,  the  declaration  that 
the  state  is  in  danger  seems  to  justify  any  breach  of 
faith,  and  to  turn  treaties  into  waste  paper. 

Many  will  remember  that  when  Panurge  proposed 
a  "  problematick  theme,"  to  wit,  whether  he  should 
marry  or  not  marry,  the  faithful  Trouillogan  at  first 
replied,  yea  or  nay,  both  together;  then  on  second 
thought  he  opined,  not  the  one  nor  the  other.  Which 
answers  the  mystified  Panurge  characterized  as  "re- 
pugnant and  contradictory,"  exclaiming  that  he  un- 
derstands them  not.  Gargantua  recalled  the  phi- 
losopher who  said  he  owned  his  wife,  although  she 
did  not  own  him.  Rondibilis  considered  the  answers 
like  the  "neuter  in  physick,"  neither  sick  nor  health- 
ful, or  like  the  mean  in  philosophy,  the  abnegation 
of  both  extremes.  Hippothade  quoted  the  apostle: 
Those  that  are  married,  let  them  be  as  if  they  were 
not  married;  and  those  that  have  wives  let  them  be 
as  if  they  had  no  wives  at  all.  I  thus  interpret, 
quoth  Pantagruel  with  finality,  the  having  and  not 
having  of  a  wife.    To  have  a  wife  is  to  use  her  as 


DEMOCRACY  AND  EFFICIENCY— II  151 


nature  hath  ordained,  for  the  aid,  society,  and  solace 
of  man,  and  propagating  of  his  race.  To  have  no 
wife  is  not  to  be  uxorious,  play  the  coward  and  be 
lazy  about  her,  and  not  for  her  sake  to  disdain  the 
lustre  of  that  affection  which  man  owes  to  God;  or 
yet  for  her  to  leave  those  offices  and  duties  which  he 
owes  unto  his  country,  unto  his  friends  and  kindred; 
or,  for  her,  to  abandon  and  forsake  his  precious 
studies  and  business  of  account;  to  wait  still  on  her 
will,  her  beck,  and  her  vapors.  If  we  be  pleased  in 
this  sense  to  consider  the  "having"  and  "not  having" 
a  wife,  we  shall  indeed  find  no  repugnancy  or  contra- 
diction in  the  terms  at  all. 

Our  Western  world  is  wedded  to  democracy. 
There  can  be  no  question  of  "to  marry  or  not  to 
marry."  Of  "yea  and  nay,  both  together";  and  on 
second  thought  of  "not  the  one  nor  the  other"  there 
is  a  large  and  grave  question,  and  the  best  answer 
for  us  is  that  of  Pantagruel :  we  are  not  to  be  uxorious 
and  play  the  coward,  not  for  democracy's  sake  to 
scorn  God  and  common  sense,  not  to  neglect  the  offices 
and  duties  we  owe  to  country,  friends,  and  kindred, 
our  precious  studies  and  business  of  account.  Democ- 
racy exists  for  the  aid  and  solace  of  man,  and  is  to  be 
used  as  nature  hath  ordained.  You  can  no  more 
circumscribe  the  democratic  state  of  mind  than  you 
can  the  marital.  Held  to  strict  accountability  for 
the  performance  of  its  duty  and  its  task,  that  state 
of  mind  has  proved  both  adaptable  and  efficient,  and 
if  we  who  compose  and  manage  the  system  are  neither 
uxorious,  cowardly,  nor  lazy,  the  system  will  prove 
like  a  good  husband  or  a  good  wife:  the  means  of 
perpetuating  and  adorning  the  order  of  nature  in 
politics  and  society. 


II 


THE  EVOLUTION  OF  THE  MODERN 
NATION 


I 


DEMOCRACY  AND  THE  NATION 

CHANGES  IN  THE  MEANING  OF  TERMS — DIVERGENT  MEANINGS  OF  THE 
WORD  NATION — RUSSIA  UNDER  THE  CZARS  AND  THE  FRENCH  REPUBLIC 
— NATION  AND  PEOPLE — THE  QUESTION  OF  SIZE;  DENMARK — GEO- 
GRAPHICAL UNITY  AND  NATURAL  BOUNDARIES — THE  QUESTION  OF 
RELIGIOUS  CONFESSION — THE  COMMUNITY  OF  CUSTOM — ECONOMIC 
UNITY — THE  ETHICAL  CHARACTER  OF  THE  NATION — THE  USE  OF 
DYNASTIES  IN  HISTORY — RACE,   RELIGION,   LANGUAGE,  CUSTOM,  AND 

COMMUNITY    OF    INTEREST    AS    UNIFYING    FORCES  COMMUNITY  OF 

RIGHTS;  SWITZERLAND — THE  NATION  AS  A  SOVEREIGN  AND  A  MORAL 
ORGANISM — THE  FIELD  OF  INQUIRY. 

While  all  historical  science  is  primarily  a  discipline 
of  remembering,  yet  there  is  a  very  important  side 
of  it  which  is  chiefly  concerned  with  forgetting. 
This  fact  is  easier  to  illustrate  in  the  domain  of  terms 
and  definitions  than  anywhere  else.  The  confusion 
and  vagueness  which  exist  in  political  thinking  are 
more  largely  due  to  a  lack  of  nice  discrimination  in 
matters  of  etymology  and  bygone  usage  than  to  any 
single  cause.  No  two  writers  agree  in  detail  concern- 
ing the  exact  meaning  of  any  single  word  which  they 
use,  and  the  dictionary-maker  must,  perforce,  have 
recourse  to  the  history  of  every  vocable,  tracing  its 
various  changes  in  form,  usage,  and  meaning.  While 
this  fact  renders  discursive  thought  extremely  diffi- 
cult, yet  it  is,  nevertheless,  indicative  of  a  very  satis- 
factory movement  in  language,  which  suits  the  forms 
of  human  expression  to  the  successive  states  of  hu- 
man society.  The  change  in  the  value  of  a  word 
not  infrequently  has  a  direct  bearing  on  the  change 
in  the  concept  which  it  represents  and  is  intended  to 
express;  but  in  the  main  the  variation  in  the  phe- 
nomenon conditions  the  changing  usages  of  language. 


156     DEMOCRACY  AND  THE  NATION 


We  are  chiefly  concerned,  of  course,  to  understand 
what  a  nation  is  in  this  twentieth  century.  In  order 
to  do  so  we  must  forget  many  of  the  former  and  an- 
tiquated significations  of  the  term,  but  only  in  so  far 
as  they  have  utterly  vanished,  not  in  so  far  as  traces 
of  them  survive.  To  this  end  we  must  proceed  ten- 
tatively, by  the  method  of  exclusion,  shutting  out 
the  rejected  facts  of  the  past,  the  confusions  of  the 
present,  the  theories  which  substitute,  both  consciously 
and  unconsciously,  what  is  hoped  for  in  the  future 
for  that  which  actually  is. 

Vague  knowledge  has  its  importance;  in  fact,  it  is 
the  essential  antecedent  of  accurate  and  systematic 
knowledge  in  all  creative  minds.  No  one  need  feel 
ashamed  of  a  lack  of  definitions,  provided  it  makes 
him  feel  the  necessity  for  further  thought.  More- 
over, there  is  often  far  more  trustworthiness  in  a 
state  of  mind  which  distrusts  itself  than  in  the  assur- 
ance which  rests  on  pedantry.  Undue  emphasis  in 
the  matter  of  limits  frequently  hampers  the  organic 
growth  of  what  is  contained  within  those  limits. 
Take  the  attempt  to  explain  the  word  Nation.  It 
is  no  shame  that  the  association  of  ideas  at  once 
brings  up  the  word  People,  and  that  by  an  easy 
transition  we  pass  on  to  State,  whence  we  fall  to 
considering  Nationality.  Quite  probably  we  further 
call  into  court  both  Government  and  Administra- 
tion. Yet  we  feel  instinctively  that  though  closely 
akin  to  each  other,  not  even  nation  and  people  are 
synonymous.  Within  the  limits  of  our  own  genera- 
tion we,  on  this  very  soil,  were  a  collection  of  states 
united  into  a  federal  state,  comprising  what  was  un- 
questionably an  American  people;  but  our  own 
younger  contemporaries  do  not  yet,  freely,  unani- 
mously and  unhesitatingly  use  the  phrase,  Ameri- 
can nation.  Again  the  Austro-Hungarian  dual  mon- 
archy was  a  nation  considering  itself  two  states,  each 


DEMOCRACY  AND  THE  NATION  157 


with  several  nationalities,  but  making  an  effort  to 
behave  like  a  single  people.  In  Germany  there  were 
several  states  and  one  people,  in  one  nation.  The 
Norwegian  people  were  free  in  their  union  of  two 
Scandinavian  crowns  because  they  had  a  separate 
democratic  constitution,  but  they  felt  that  as  a 
nation  they  were  not  free  because  of  their  peculiar 
relation  to  Sweden;  so  they  chose  a  king  of  their 
own  to  reign,  but  not  to  rule,  over  them.  There  may 
be  a  government  despotic  in  form  yet  liberal  in  ad- 
ministration, and  vice  versa,  a  government  liberal 
in  form  yet  despotic  in  administration.  Of  the  former 
the  Mecklenburg  duchies  were  a  fair  illustration, 
while  the  German  Empire,  of  which  they  were  com- 
ponent parts,  was  a  terrible  example  of  the  latter. 
Thus  we  come  to  feel  that  present  usage  draws  lines 
of  demarcation  among  all  these  terms  which  clearly 
separate  them,  one  from  the  other,  even  though  mis- 
use may  confound  them.  In  reality  their  various 
true  meanings  form  a  connected  progression  from 
theory  to  fact  in  which  there  is  logical  unity. 

Considering,  therefore,  that  distinctions  certainly 
exist,  intelligent  curiosity  prompts  us  to  inquire 
where  they  lie.  Suppose  we  take  two  extremes, 
Russia  as  it  was,  and  France.  The  Czar  governed 
what  he  asserted  was  one  people,  but  it  was  composed 
of  many  nationalities.  There  are  the  Russians, 
Great,  Little,  and  White,  the  Poles,  Finns,  Lithu- 
anians, and  Baltic  Germans,  Tartars,  Turks,  Man- 
chus,  and  many  wild  tribes.  These  all  speak  differ- 
ent languages,  have  different  customs,  with  no  unity 
of  belief,  and  no  single  standard  of  morals.  They 
have  but  one  thing  in  common,  certain  body  of 
law  administered  by  a  single  sovereign,  apparently 
able,  in  19 12,  to  enforce  its  precepts.  Subsequent 
events  have  shown  that  as  nation,  state,  and  ad- 
ministration the  Russia  of  the  czars  was  a  sham. 


158     DEMOCRACY  AND  THE  NATION 


France,  on  the  other  hand,  antecedent  to  the  Revolu- 
tion of  1789  was  a  nation,  the  most  highity  centralized 
absolutism  the  world  has  ever  seen.  And  yet  the 
cry  of  the  people  was  for  nationality  in  the  true  sense, 
the  abolition  of  provincial  boundaries,  the  unification 
of  law  systems,  of  customs  dues,  and  of  political  be- 
liefs. The  inhabitants  felt  themselves  to  be  arti- 
ficially separated  by  feudal  survivals  into  different 
peoples;  they  determined  to  be  a  single  people, 
"one  and  indivisible."  To-day  they  are,  therefore, 
one  nation,  and  at  the  same  time  one  people.  They 
have  a  unity  of  law,  custom,  belief,  a  common  past, 
and,  as  they  feel  absolutely  sure,  a  common  destiny, 
an  organic,  moral  unity,  identical  rights  secured  by 
a  popular  sovereignty. 

Such  considerations  are  very  helpful.  We  see  that 
nation  and  people,  though  not  synonymous,  may 
stand  for  concepts  which  are  nearly  identical  on 
the  one  hand,  or  widely  divergent  on  the  other; 
and  the  idea  flits  across  our  minds  that  perhaps — 
perhaps,  the  higher  the  civilization  the  closer  the 
approach  of  the  two  meanings;  though  we  inevitably 
murmur,  the  English  people,  the  Scotch  people,  the 
Irish  people,  and  again  we  feel  we  must  be  cautious. 
The  remedy  for  uncertainty  in  the  particular  case 
of  the  British  nation,  for  nation  it  is,  can  only  be 
found  in  the  history  of  the  three  peoples — England, 
Scotland,  and  Ireland  became  the  British  nation  when 
the  word  had  a  meaning  now  antiquated;  they  were 
steadily  growing  into  a  nation  in  its  present-day  sense. 
The  Russian  empire  was  not  formed  at  a  time,  nor 
in  a  way,  nor  in  circumstances  making  possible  the 
amalgamation  of  its  inhabitants  as  was  the  case  with 
France,  now  become,  after  a  long  period  of  evolution, 
a  nation  in  the  most  modern  and  complete  sense. 
Our  instinct  is,  therefore,  correct  when  we  feel  that 
both  the  word  and  the  thing  it  represents  must  be 


DEMOCRACY  AND  THE  NATION  159 


viewed  genetically.  With  such  modifying  exceptions 
as  we  shall  later  notice,  the  word  nation  still  con- 
notes either  a  substantial  ethnographic  element  of 
common  generation,  or  a  substantial  blending  of 
races  to  create  a  blood  relationship  more  or  less  close, 
which  carries  with  it  a  community  of  speech,  custom, 
belief,  and  tradition,  accompanied  by  a  unity  of 
sovereignty  and  law,  both  sufficiently  complete  to 
make  the  social  union  very  close. 

In  this  community  which  we  call  the  nation  there 
must  also  be  the  element  of  size;  a  village,  a  manor, 
a  mir,  a  hundred,  or  a  tun,  is  not  a  nation.  Nor  is 
a  clan,  nor  a  gens,  nor  a  sept,  nor  yet  a  federation  of 
these  into  a  city-state.  Athens  and  Sparta  were  not 
nations.  Not  even  early  Rome.  The  former  were 
each  a  polls,  the  latter  was  a  civitas :  Greek  and  Latin 
terms,  respectively,  for  an  organized  society  of  Greeks 
and  Latins,  which  was  but  a  small  portion  of  the  Greek 
and  Latin  nations.  Athens  and  Rome  were  true 
states;  but  it  required  all  the  Hellenes  in  the  Pelo- 
ponnesus, on  the  mainland  and  in  the  islands  of  the 
Mgean,  to  make  a  nation.  The  case  in  Italy,  though 
differing  in  particulars,  was  substantially  the  same. 
Corresponding  to  the  number  of  inhabitants  there 
lies  also  in  the  vaguest  notion  of  our  term  a  concep- 
tion of  size  in  territorial  extent.  We  have  to  do  a 
certain  violence  to  our  instincts  to  think  of  Denmark 
as  still  being  a  nation:  we  have  no  trouble  when  we 
think  of  her  as  she  was  during  the  Thirty  Years' 
War,  as  she  was  after  the  successive  treaties  of  the 
eighteenth  and  early  nineteenth  centuries.  But  as 
she  was  after  the  Dano-Prussian  War  of  1866,  shorn 
of  Schleswig  and  Holstein,  we  have  to  summon  his- 
tory to  our  aid  in  order  to  think  of  her  as  a  nation. 
She  has  a  home  territory  of  about  15,000  square 
miles,  on  which  dwell  about  as  many  inhabitants  as 
live  on  the  island  of  Manhattan.    She  has  a  nominal 


i6o    DEMOCRACY  AND  THE  NATION 


sway  over  Iceland,  and  administers  the  tiny,  sparse 
settlements  on  the  icy  continent  of  Greenland. 
Small  in  population  yet  vast  territorially,  we  feel  that 
she  is  marred  as  a  nation  because  the  two  do  not 
correspond.  A  very  small  portion  of  her  vast  do- 
main is  capable  of  sustaining  civilized  life;  that  por- 
tion is  already  taken  up,  and  beneficent  occupation 
of  the  rest  is  impossible.  We  may  fairly  conclude 
that  in  our  definition  of  a  nation  lies  the  concept  of 
size  in  population  and  territory,  not  in  one  alone, 
but  in  both,  and  proportionately  one  to  the  other. 

When  we  shall  have  made  as  definite  as  possible 
our  thoughts  regarding  the  size  of  a  land,  the  number 
of  dwellers  in  it,  and  the  unity  of  the  latter  as  to 
origin  and  destiny,  other  suggestions  will  at  once 
arise.  Can  there  be,  or  must  there  be,  a  geographical 
unity  in  the  land  as  there  is  a  race  unity  of  some 
sort  in  the  controlling  population  thereof?  On  the 
breaking  up  of  Charlemagne's  empire  the  divisions 
were  made  largely  on  the  basis  of  customary  German 
law;  but  race,  speech,  and  geography  had  something 
to  do  with  them.  As  the  process  of  nation-making 
went  on  these  last  were  studied  and  used  as  arguments 
to  prop  the  pretensions  of  the  powerful  feudatories 
until,  in  the  final  outcome,  it  is  possible  to  talk  of 
national  boundaries  in  Western  Europe  as  foreshadow- 
ing national  destinies.  We  have  mentioned  language ; 
that  consideration  also  seems  to  force  itself  upon  us. 
France  and  Italy  alike  appealed  to  public  sentiment 
in  the  civilized  world  on  that  ground,  the  former  for 
the  restoration  of  Lorraine  and  French  Alsace,  the 
latter  for  the  incorporation  of  all  the  Italian-speaking 
peoples  around  the  Adriatic  into  the  Italian  mon- 
archy. And  their  appeal  has  met  with  considerable 
responsive  sympathy. 

Turning  from  physical  considerations  we  are  at 
once  confronted  with  another  class  of  ideas  which 


DEMOCRACY  AND  THE  NATION  i6i 


seem  to  be  comprehended  in  the  concept  of  nation. 
The  first  of  these  is  community  of  religion  in  its  broad- 
est sense.  "As  a  people  believes  so  it  behaves;  as 
it  behaves  so  it  thrives,"  said  Charles  Kingsley. 
Oriental  scholars  no  longer  doubt  that  the  first  great 
cleft  in  the  Aryan  race,  that  between  those  who  are 
now  Europeans  and  the  Indo-Iranians,  was  due  to 
a  divergence  in  religious  belief,  for  it  is  certain  that 
this  was  the  cause  of  the  division  betweert  Persians 
and  Indians.  The  only  real  expression  of  unity 
among  the  Greeks  was  the  Amphictyonic  leagues  of 
the  Peloponnesus  and  the  mainland:  the  barbarian 
had  other  gods.  In  the  same  way  the  Jewish  nation 
comprised  all  who  worshipped  the  one  true  God; 
the  nations  of  the  heathen  worshipped  each  its  false 
god.  Throughout  the  Middle  Ages  every  man  in 
Europe  had  a  double  secular  allegiance:  that  to  his 
feudal  suzerain,  that  to  the  emperor;  the  latter 
allegiance  being  theoretically  paramount,  each  man 
was  a  citizen  of  Christendom,  of  necessity  a  Chris- 
tian; otherwise  he  was  an  infidel  and  outlaw,  not 
alone  in  religion  but  as  regarded  his  political  and 
civil  relations.  Even  the  protesting  reformers  harped 
on  the  phrase:  Cujus  regio,  ejus  religio.  No  Calvin- 
ist  could  be  the  citizen  of  a  Lutheran  state,  or  the 
reverse. 

Intimately  connected,  in  fact  inseparable  from  this 
oneness,  is  the  oneness  of  habit;  a  single  norm  of 
conduct,  one  standard  of  morality.  As  Rome  de- 
veloped from  a  city-state  into  a  nation  she  discovered 
what  stubborn  stuff  humanity  is.  The  morality  of 
the  Twelve  Tables,  the  customs  of  Rome,  had  little 
in  common  even  with  Italian  habit,  still  less  with 
those  of  the  Greek  lands  which  she  conquered;  little 
or  nothing  with  those  of  her  Eastern  and  Western 
provinces.  The  commonwealth  of  Rome  displayed 
some  fitness  to  rule  over  other  city-states  and  foreign 


i62     DEMOCRACY  AND  THE  NATION 


lands  in  that,  year  by  year,  the  prator  peregrinus 
issued  edicts  expressing  the  necessary  changes  in 
both  Roman  and  foreign  usage  in  order  to  reach  a 
practical  compromise — thus  creating  conjointly  with 
the  prcBtor  urhanus  a  body  of  jus  honorarium  quite 
equal  in  importance  to  the  jus  civile  ;  so  important, 
that  under  Hadrian  it  was  co-ordinated  into  a  per- 
petual edict.  In  the  same  way  the  Lord  Chancellors 
of  England,  the  keepers  of  the  King's  conscience, 
built  up  a  body  of  equity  in  order  to  remedy  the  rigid- 
ity of  the  common  law.  In  other  words,  both  in 
Rome  and  England,  the  oneness  of  custom  admittedly 
existing  in  the  ruling  community  was  gradually  al- 
tered to  suit  the  other  customary  units  with  which 
that  community  came  into  advantageous  contact. 

Out  of  customs  grow  institutions  which  express 
the  general  morality,  occupations  which  are  deter- 
mined partly  by  necessity,  but  in  the  main  by  choice, 
and  these  eventually  segregate  into  the  various  forms 
of  industrial,  commercial,  and  agricultural  life;  and 
then,  interacting  on  each  other  like  the  organs  in  a 
living  organism,  they  finally  create  an  artificial  or- 
ganism which  grows  from  within,  and  stands  for  a 
community  of  interest.  To  many  this  has  appeared 
the  most  important  thought  connected  with  the 
word  "nation."  The  economic  man  is  influenced 
by  self-interest;  the  most  powerful  tie  among  such 
men  would  be  community  of  interest.  This  is  the 
favorite  dogma  of  an  industrial  age.  Whatever  else 
men  do  not  have  in  common,  race,  belief,  morals, 
before  they  can  become  a  nation  they  must  recognize 
a  community  of  personal  interest;  the  hard,  prac- 
tical side  of  life  is  everything  and  all  else  sinks  into 
insignificance  before  it.  In  any  nation  there  must  be 
identity  of  other  things,  perhaps,  but  all  these  are 
secondary  and  not  primary. 

Most  men  feel  the  compulsion  of  such  reasoning. 


DEMOCRACY  AND  THE  NATION  163 


especially  Americans.  Practically  the  casual  observer 
would  have  concluded  before  the  Great  War,  that  if 
there  be  any  national  unity  in  the  United  States,  it 
expresses  itself  economically;  but  the  readiness  for 
economic  sacrifice  in  a  high  moral  cause  then  dis- 
played was  conclusive  evidence  to  the  contrary. 
During  the  long  peace  the  political  questions  in  which 
Americans  took  the  liveliest  interest  were  economic; 
free  trade  and  protection  in  all  the  ramifications  of 
the  complex  systems  which  were  built  up  around  those 
dogmas.  We  seemed  to  be  economic  rather  than 
political  sectaries,  displaying  the  same  animus  in 
economic  debate  as  that  which  our  forefathers  dis- 
played in  discussing  both  religious  and  political  Cal- 
vinism. We  felt  the  truth  of  this  indictment  and 
were  turning  our  attention  to  socialistic  and  labor 
questions.  Yet  we  were  not  altogether  ashamed 
of  our  economic  obsession,  for  the  instinct  is  correct 
which  tells  us  that  there  should  be  some  community 
of  economic  interest  among  any  large  number  of  men 
before  they  can  be  welded  into  a  nation. 

The  thinking  minority,  however,  while  admitting 
that  there  is  some  truth,  perhaps  even  a  large  amount, 
in  each  of  these  conceptions,  refuses  to  accept  any  one 
or  all  of  them  together  as  adequately  defining  the 
nation.  Among  European  statesmen  of  the  last 
century  was  formed  a  view  which  has  had  great  vi- 
tality and  has  survived  as  an  active  force  down  into 
this — that  a  nation  is  created  by  conquest,  that  the 
conqueror  establishes  a  dynasty  which  is  accepted 
by  the  people,  that  this  dynasty  by  further  conquest 
and  by  marriage  accumulates  a  number  of  feudal 
units  of  land  (provinces)  and  welds  them  all  into  a 
homogeneous  nation.  This  was  the  view  of  absolut- 
ism, revived  both  in  the  interest  of  and  to  oppose 
Napoleonic  imperialism.  There  was  an  attractive 
historic  basis  for  this  definition.    Great  Britain  was 


i64     DEMOCRACY  AND  THE  NATION 


thus  formed;  so,  however,  was  Austria.  Italy  failed 
to  become  a  nation  because  no  powerful  Italian  dy- 
nasty arose  until  the  nineteenth  century.  France 
became  a  nation  under  the  house  of  Capet,  and  Ger- 
many, or  Prussia  rather,  a  thousand  years  later,  un- 
der the  Hohenzollern  dynasty.  But  the  notion  is 
an  anachronism,  the  revolution  of  1688  in  England 
had  discredited  it;  the  American  revolution  made  it 
ridiculous:  the  world  revolution  of  1789  destroyed 
every  shred  of  its  credit.  Thenceforward  it  has  per- 
haps been  a  historic  aid  but  modern  nations  are  the 
men  and  women  who  compose  them,  not  a  dynasty 
which  governs  them  and  confines  the  expression  of 
national  life  to  the  welfare  of  the  king  as  its  representa- 
tive; possibly  a  survival  of  this  is  the  idea  that  the 
nation  must  support  the  citizen  and  not  the  citizen 
the  nation. 

Since  the  reconstruction  of  Europe  by  the  Congress 
of  Vienna  and  the  convulsions  which  undid  it,  no 
thinking  man,  except  the  statesman  who  practises 
politics  as  an  occupation  and  not  as  an  art  or  science, 
can  be  brought  seriously  to  consider  a  nation  as 
founded  on  race  or  on  religion  or  on  language  or  on 
custom  or  on  community  of  interest,  important  as 
each  of  them  may  sentimentally  be.  All  have  their 
uses  in  swaying  popular  opinion,  but  from  the  scien- 
tific point  of  view  they  are  well  nigh  if  not  altogether 
obsolete.  It  pleases  us  to  speak  of  the  Anglo-Saxon, 
the  Slave,  the  Latin,  as  if  they  were  races.  If  so 
they  are  political  and  not  zoological  races;  each  is 
compounded  of  various  strains;  scholars  now  doubt 
whether  there  ever  were  any  subdivisions  of  the  Aryan 
stock,  separate  and  pure;  they  are  certain  that  none 
exist  to-day.  Take  religion — we  speak  in  a  very 
general  way  of  Christendom  as  a  system  of  life  which 
has  spread  over  the  globe  politically:  national  sov- 
ereignty, however,  never  contemplates  proselytism 


DEMOCRACY  AND  THE  NATION  165 


by  political  means  within  that  system;  and  every 
Christian  land  now  has  subjects  or  citizens  differing 
widely  in  faith.  There  is  probably  not  one  in  which 
Protestants,  Roman  Catholics,  Jews,  and  atheists, 
are  not  members  of  the  body  politic;  in  some  there 
are  Mohammedans,  Buddhists,  Brahmins,  and  in  a 
few,  fetichists  and  idolaters.  And  this  shocks  nobody. 
If  we  mention  language  it  is  only  to  mention  it,  for 
America  and  Great  Britain,  France  and  Belgium, 
Germany  and  Austria,  stand  in  powerful  refutation 
of  any  such  claim.  Geography  and  the  theory  of 
natural  boundaries  are  also  discredited  except  in  so 
far  as  they  serve  strategic  or  diplomatic  convenience. 
Close  scrutiny  of  the  economic  doctrine  refutes  it, 
because  common  material  interest  as  the  sole  bond 
of  union  would  degrade  the  nation  to  the  level  of  a 
business  firm,  a  notion  which  refutes  itself;  Sidon  of 
old  and  the  German  Empire  of  yesterday  are  out- 
standing and  horrible  warnings  of  what  greed  may  do 
to  a  people.  Each  of  these  considerations  having  a 
modicum  of  truth  in  it,  but  proving  itself  utterly 
inadequate  when  taken  alone,  let  us  examine  still  an- 
other. 

The  existence  of  rulers  and  ruled  is  a  self-evident 
fact:  the  paramount  importance  of  the  people  in  a 
nation  is  another:  the  devotion  of  citizens,  male  and 
female,  to  their  fatherland,  is  another:  the  sacrifice 
of  individual  to  general  interest  for  the  sake  of  secur- 
ing a  personal  well-being,  substantial,  and  enduring, 
is  still  another.  Switzerland  is  a  nation;  she  has  no 
natural  boundaries;  she  has  three,  and  some  claim, 
four  race  elements,  she  has  three  religions,  and  four 
languages.  There  is  no  doubt  in  any  one's  mind  that 
other  nations  with  equally  heterogeneous  elements 
might  be  formed  and  as  firmly  united  as  she  is.  Why 
is  she  so  strongly  compacted  ?  How  might  other 
nations  be  formed  equally  homogeneous  from  the 


1 66    DEMOCRACY  AND  THE  NATION 


political  point  of  view?  Most  investigators  would 
reply:  We  have  in  her  an  illustration  of  men  devoted 
to  a  community  of  rights.  These  rights  easily  find  ex- 
pression in  a  sovereignty  based  on  force  only  as  against 
the  alien  and  the  evil-doer;  but  based  upon  habit  and 
good-will  as  regards  the  citizen.  To  this  sovereignty 
the  Swiss  without  reference  to  race,  language,  or  be- 
lief, yield  a  willing  obedience.  They  created  it,  they 
modify  it  to  suit  their  convenience,  they  enroll  them- 
selves under  it  and  through  it  they  are  a  nation. 
Unfortunately  there  is  no  word  so  difficult  to  define 
as  the  word  rights — either  in  its  origin  and  meaning, 
or  in  the  extent  of  its  meaning.  We  understand  the 
word  nation  far  better  than  we  do  the  word  rights: 
to  define  one  by  the  other  is  to  darken  words  without 
knowledge.  And  yet  there  is  a  mysterious  relation 
between  the  nation  and  the  rights  of  man  as  an  in- 
dividual, which  no  one  denies. 

But  men  are  hopelessly  divided  as  to  the  nature  of 
this  relation,  as  to  whether  rights  are  antecedent  to 
organized  human  society  (natural  rights)  or  subse- 
quent to  it  (the  legal  state):  as  to  whether  the  na- 
tion is  a  mere  agglomeration  of  persons  in  which 
numbers  and  force  control,  or  whether  it  is  a  responsi- 
ble moral  organism  under  the  control  of  eternal  jus- 
tice. As  to  the  word  sovereignty,  the  abstract  noun 
derived  from  a  concrete  word,  nobody  denies  that 
there  is  such  a  quality  somewhere,  that  it  inheres 
in  the  nation,  that  the  world  has  need  of  it,  and  can- 
not get  on  without  it;  but  when  it  comes  to  defini- 
tion there  again,  as  in  the  case  of  rights,  no  two  can 
agree.  In  its  independence,  its  fulness,  its  majesty, 
its  supremacy  and  in  its  unity,  qualities  which  appear 
self-evident,  it  is  attacked  every  day,  sometimes  by 
international,  sometimes  by  municipal,  law;  some- 
times by  rebellion,  sometimes  by  conspiracy.  This 
is  no  argument  against  its  existence,  but  it  never 


DEMOCRACY  AND  THE  NATION  167 


comes  out  of  the  attacks  exactly  as  it  was  before  they 
began. 

All  these  many  considerations,  severally  and  col- 
lectively, enter  therefore  into  our  inquiry  and  condi- 
tion its  nature.  This  is  our  field.  The  object  of  our 
investigation  is  to  discover  how  far  our  instincts  in 
regard  to  these  matters  are  trustworthy,  how  much  of 
our  knowledge  is  clear,  how  much  vague — what  is 
real,  what  artificial  ? 


II 


THE  METHOD  OF  INQUIRY 

THE  QUESTION  OF  INVESTIGATION — DISTINCTIONS  BETWEEN  LAW  AND 
MORALS  IN  HISTORY — GOVERNMENT  AS  A  SCIENCE  AND  AS  AN  ART — 
POLITICAL  SPECULATION  IN  THE  UNITED  STATES — THE  LITERATURE  OF 

THE     TOPIC — POTENCY  OF  POLITICAL  THINKING  INTERRELATION  OF 

NATIONS — ESSENTIAL  DIFFERENCE  BETWEEN  POLITICAL  AND  NAT- 
URAL SCIENCE — PUBLIC  AND  PRIVATE  LAW — HISTORY,  POLITICS,  AND 

ECONOMICS — POLITICAL  ETHICS — THE  INDIVIDUAL  AND  THE  NATION  

PUBLIC  AND  PERSONAL  DUTY — HISTORY  AND  PHILOSOPHY  AS  COMPLE- 
MENTS—DEVELOPMENT OF  PERSONAL  CAPACITY — STATESMEN  AND 
HISTORY — THE  EMPIRIC  AND  THE  IDEOLOGUE. 

It  is  a  curious  although  a  well-known  truth  that 
the  very  existence  of  many  facts  is  dependent  upon 
the  method  of  their  examination.  Objects  appear 
very  dififerent  when  seen  first  by  the  naked  eye  and 
then  under  lenses  of  different  magnifying  powers. 
Some  stars  would  not  exist  but  for  the  telescope: 
some  sounds  can  only  be  heard  by  an  artificial  ear: 
some  equations  can  only  be  solved  by  the  introduction 
of  a  quantity  altogether  extraneous.  We  fail  to  see 
a  lost  object  on  the  floor  with  the  line  of  vision  at  one 
angle  to  the  light;  then,  if  we  alter  that  angle  never 
so  slightly,  we  easily  discern  what  we  are  seeking. 
To  put  it  in  a  more  philosophical  way,  every  science 
has  a  method  more  or  less  its  own,  and  many  sciences 
are  dependent  for  their  very  existence  upon  the  dis 
covery  of  a  method  suited  to  their  field.  There  can- 
not even  be  such  a  thing  as  history  unless  we  are 
clear  both  as  to  the  field  of  our  investigation  and  the 
object  we  have  in  view. 

This  is  especially  true  in  all  the  field  of  political 
science  and  in  each  of  its  subdivisions.  It  requires 
the  nicest  analysis  to  separate  political  science  in  its 
narrow  sense  from  political  economy;  to  distinguish 

i68 


THE  METHOD  OF  INQUIRY  169 


between  morality  and  legality;  to  clear  a  field  for  the 
exhibition  of  political  morality  as  distinct  from  ethics 
and  religion.  Many  doubt  not  merely  the  present 
existence  of  sociology  as  a  science:  some  go  further 
and  declare  that  if  the  will  be  free,  no  such  science  can 
even  be  outlined,  much  less  constructed.  Such  a 
conclusion  is  inevitable  unless  we  distinguish  on  the 
one  hand  between  two  meanings  of  law,  or  on  the  other 
admit  the  existence  of  a  subconscious  sphere  of  action 
in  which,  will  and  emotion  neutralizing  each  other, 
the  will  either  cannot,  does  not  care  to,  or  is  not  ac- 
customed to,  exhibit  itself  in  free  play. 

The  importance  of  method  is  beautifully  illustrated 
in  the  art  as  distinguished  from  the  science  of  govern- 
ment. The  United  States  came  into  existence  at  the 
close  of  a  century  which  produced  more  political 
speculation  than  all  the  other  ages  combined.  By 
nature,  men  of  our  blood  are  not  speculative,  yet  in 
the  creation  of  our  constitution  the  theories  so  rife 
at  the  time  had  a  certain  share.  The  constitution  of 
the  United  States  is  not  remarkable  because  it  was 
struck  out  of  the  human  minds  of  its  framers  by  a 
kind  of  inspiration,  but  because  they  followed  so 
closely  a  method  best  characterized  as  the  historical; 
embodying  in  the  paper  the  political  habits  already 
firmly  established  among  those  who  were  to  live  under 
its  provisions.  To  these,  however,  were  added  a  few, 
which  some  think  were  purely  theoretical  and  others 
insist  were  already  known  in  one  or  more  of  the  col- 
onies. Such  were  the  share  of  the  senate  in  the  ap- 
pointing power,  the  relation  of  the  States  to  the 
federation  as  of  towns  to  the  colonial  government,  the 
indirect  election  of  senators,  the  appropriation  of 
money  for  treaty  fulfilment,  and  particularly  the  in- 
stitution of  the  electoral  college.  None  of  these  was 
a  vital  colonial  institution  and  they  were  adopted  as 
fine-spun  theories  of  what  ought  to  work.    The  first 


170        THE  METHOD  OF  INQUIRY 


has  had  a  certain  efficacy,  although  it  has  been  the 
source  of  much  friction;  about  all  the  others  except 
the  last  there  may  be  two  opinions,  the  weight  of 
public  opinion  being  averse;  but  the  last  has  been  a 
farce  and  a  nuisance  from  the  beginning. 

This  is,  of  course,  but  one  illustration  among  many 
which  could  be  given  of  the  historical  method  in  the 
art  of  politics.  We  naturally  conclude  that  the  same 
method  is  the  best  in  the  science  of  politics.  In  the 
structure  of  the  constitution  so  compacted  there  has 
been  so  much  room  and  comfort,  that  for  nearly  half 
a  century  there  was  almost  no  political  speculation, 
and  what  there  was  had  reference  directly  to  the 
French  revolution,  secondarily  to  the  creation  and 
consolidation  of  the  party  which  rallied  around  cer- 
tain principles  of  that  revolution  as  set  forth  by  Jef- 
ferson. But  the  question  of  States'  rights,  though 
partly  quiescent,  was  never  settled ;  with  the  spread 
of  negro  slavery  and  the  growth  of  a  slave-holding 
aristocracy  there  began  grave  discussions  of  the  laws 
of  freedom  and  bondage.  Then  arose,  with  the  ever- 
increasing  Roman-Catholic  immigration,  the  Bible- 
in-the-schools  question,  the  contest  which  finally 
secularized  public  education;  and  this  was  over- 
lapped by  the  debates  on  political  theory  preliminary 
to  civil  war.  The  two  following  generations  have 
been  deeply  concerned  with  the  relations  of  social 
classes  to  each  other. 

The  literature  concerned  with  politics  in  America 
is  sufficiently  large.  Paine's  Rights  of  Man,  De 
Tocqueville's  Democracy  in  America,  Lieber's  Political 
Ethics,  Bryce's  American  Commonwealth;  these  all 
are  very  valuable  treatises  written  about  us  by  sym- 
pathetic foreigners  intimately  acquainted  with  our 
circumstances.  Hurd's  Law  of  Freedom  and  Bond- 
age, Brownson:  American  Republic,  Mulford:  The 
Nation,  Woolsey:  Political  Science,  Woodrow  Wilson: 


THE  METHOD  OF  INQUIRY  171 


The  State,  Burgess:  Comparative  Constitutional 
Law,  are  Americans  concerned  to  examine  the  laws  of 
all  national  growth,  stability,  and  progress.  These 
volumes  like  many  others  are  symptomatic  of  an 
awakened  intelligence,  but  they  also  display  a  certain 
uneasiness  which  is  perhaps  a  better  thing  still  inas- 
much as  it  proves  that  we  are  not  living  in  a  fool's 
paradise,  but  feel,  if  we  do  not  altogether  under- 
stand, the  weak  points  of  our  modern  society,  and 
appreciate  the  vital  necessity  of  watchfulness. 

The  existence  of  a  large  body  of  political  specula- 
tion is  in  itself  a  very  important  fact.  Elsewhere  as 
here  it  has  been  created  either  in  the  interest  of  an 
existing  system  or  to  destroy  it,  or  else  it  has  been 
an  attempt  to  analyze  "the  mystery  which  resides  in 
the  soul  of  state."  Hobbes  wrote  to  support  the 
Stuarts,  Locke  to  overthrow  them.  Plato  and  More 
had  a  philosophical  curiosity  to  display  a  perfectibil- 
ity of  social  union  for  the  encouragement  of  oppressed 
and  disheartened  men.  Now,  the  judgment  of  great 
minds  is  a  potent  force  in  history  because  in  human 
society  cause  and  effect  work  inversely  quite  as 
potently  as  they  do  directly.  The  entire  social,  legal, 
and  political  systems  of  both  England  and  America 
may  be  said  to  rest  for  their  validity  in  the  minds  of 
most  who  live  under  them  upon  the  theory  of  the 
English  Revolution  of  1688,  a  theory  which  in  many 
of  its  essentials  is  utterly  discredited  to-day.  With- 
out the  history  of  the  time  the  theory  would  be 
utterly  grotesque.  Theory  must  be  supplemented 
by  history  and  history  by  theory.  The  methods  of 
each  are  ancillary  one  to  the  other.  A  second  and 
equal  value  in  political  speculation  is,  furthermore, 
that  by  means  of  it  we  secure  a  definition  of  our 
terms  and  a  limitation  of  our  field.  Without  these 
we  would  wander  aimlessly  and  be  lost  in  the  laby- 
rinths of  history. 


172        THE  METHOD  OF  INQUIRY 


It  is  an  accepted  truism  that  there  can  be  no  his- 
tory in  the  strict  meaning  of  the  word  without  a  na- 
tion: it  is  also  fairly  well  understood  in  our  day  that 
there  can  be  no  history  in  the  large,  true,  sense 
without  the  interaction  of  several  nations  on  each 
other.  The  unity  of  history  is  the  revolutionary 
dogma  which  has  separated  scientific  from  purely 
literary  history,  has  demanded  from  it  a  character 
in  which  the  reason  controls  the  imagination.  The 
subject-matter  of  history  thus  controlled  displays  a 
power  in  action  which  is  essentially  different  from 
any  exercised  by  the  individual,  the  family,  or  the 
church ;  a  power  which  inheres  in  the  mass  of  men, 
directed  by  the  accumulated  force  of  their  union 
into  specific  channels  which  we  designate  as  political. 
This  is  the  field  of  study  for  the  statesman:  from  his 
observations  he  should  draw  such  precepts  for  his 
guidance  as  he  conceives  to  be  valuable  in  the  ad- 
ministration of  public  affairs:  such  precepts  are  sup- 
posed to  be  conducive  to  the  public  welfare,  the  in- 
terests common  to  all  classes  in  the  nation:  rulers 
and  ruled,  poor  and  rich,  intelligent  and  stupid,  the 
idle  and  the  industrious.  This  art  of  politics  can 
learn  much  that  is  essential  from  general  history;  it 
is,  however,  chiefly  concerned  with  the  special  history 
of  the  state  in  which  it  is  to  be  practised. 

The  science  of  politics  is  quite  another  thing. 
Science  concerns  itself  with  the  systematization  of 
facts.  Its  business  is  to  ascertain  facts  and  then  so 
to  array  them  as  to  display  the  secondary  chains  of 
cause  and  effect  which  are  the  subject-matter  of 
philosophy.  The  facts  of  scientific  politics  are  those 
which  bear  upon  the  origin  and  growth,  the  nature 
and  the  powers,  the  obligations  and  responsibilities 
of  both  nation  and  state;  they  may  be  taken  where- 
ever  found.  It  might  easily  be  supposed  that  the 
facts  when  once  discovered  were  to  be  treated  like 


THE  METHOD  OF  INQUIRY  173 


the  facts  of  physical  science;  many  have  proceeded 
on  that  assumption.  The  results  have  been  disas- 
trous. So  extreme  a  physical  scientist  as  John  Stuart 
Mill  felt  it  necessary  to  sound  the  note  of  caution,  lest 
his  favorite  discipline  should  prove  futile.  He  finally 
laid  down  a  method  with  the  rather  lofty  style  of  the 
inverse  deductive  method,  which  differs  by  the  whole 
universe  from  the  pure  induction  which  Buckle  and 
the  men  of  his  school  have  employed  with  only  slight 
success.  The  great  facts  of  history  are  so  few  and  the 
great  central  stream  so  short,  while  at  the  same  time 
the  unessential  details  and  barely  essential  minutiae 
are  so  multitudinous;  the  eddies  in  the  current  so 
frequent  and  confusing,  that  he  must  indeed  be  skil- 
ful who  can  distinguish  essential  from  unessential, 
the  long,  quiet  outer  swirl  of  the  eddy  from  the  yet 
stiller  and  stronger  impulse  of  the  main  current. 

Political  science  deals  with  public  as  opposed  to 
private  law :  with  the  relations  of  sovereigns  to  sover- 
eigns, that  is  states  to  states,  of  sovereigns  to  citizen 
or  subject:  with  the  protection  of  rights  and  liberty; 
with  everything  that  promotes  the  highest  welfare, 
mental,  moral,  or  social,  of  man  and  men,  insofar  as 
these  are  connected  and  bound  up  with  and  in,  na- 
tional life:  with  the  social  union  of  mankind  in  its 
highest  ethical  manifestation,  and  with  the  organic 
growth  of  that  society.  The  complete  and  encyclo- 
paedic view  of  the  genesis  and  development  of  previ- 
ous political  systems  can  be  obtained  only  through 
history.  At  the  same  time  we  ought  to  observe  the 
effect  on  those  systems  of  political  theorizing,  which, 
as  previously  remarked,  has  concerned  itself  not  only 
with  what  was  but  with  the  completion  of  philosophi- 
cal systems,  confessedly  incomplete  as  long  as  they 
explain  merely  the  individual  who  perishes  but  not 
the  race  which  continues.  Nor  will  any  one  deny 
that  these  systems  have  powerfully,  sometimes  de- 


174        THE  METHOD  OF  INQUIRY 


terminatively,  been  conditioned  by  one  personality: 
and  that  his  emotions,  his  will,  his  psychological  in- 
dividuality, have  been  so  far  political  forces.  More- 
over the  world  does  not  advance  smoothly  or  easily; 
on  the  contrary  it  changes  intermittently  and  with 
difficulty,  often  in  convulsions.  Law  tends  to  rigid- 
ity and  exerts  therefore  a  retarding  political  force, 
while  beliefs,  or  perhaps  we  ought  to  say,  the  inter- 
pretations of  religious  truths,  change  with  even 
greater  reluctance;  and  so  form  the  very  mortar  of 
the  social  union.  Political  science  therefore  is  closely 
connected  with  religion  and  jurisprudence,  with  phil- 
osophy and  history,  with  morals,  political  economy, 
and  sociology,  if  there  be  such  an  "ology." 

And  yet  it  is  no  one  of  these;  and  not  to  be  confused 
with  any  one  of  them.  It  does  not  "teach  by  ex- 
amples" as  history  does,  nor  is  it  mainly  concerned 
with  persons  as  history  is.  It  does  not  much  consider 
the  arts  of  war  and  peace,  nor  the  occupations  and 
feelings  of  men.  More  than  all  this  its  material  is 
quite  as  much  contemporaneous  as  past.  Nor  is 
political  science  identical  with  sociology,  so  called. 
Sociology  is  social  statics;  the  existing  social  state 
may  or  may  not  find  its  expression  in  national  institu- 
tions. It  may  not  be  socialistic  in  form,  yet  highly 
socialistic  in  temper  and  operation:  it  might,  on  the 
other  hand,  be  identical  with  organized  socialism.  In 
fact  it  has  never  happened  that  a  complete  national 
polity,  that  is,  the  fixity  of  a  social  state  and  its  con- 
ditions— its  public  and  domestic  conditions,  its  cus- 
toms, arts,  industries,  and  commerce,  the  balance  of 
its  social  classes,  their  beliefs,  aspirations,  and  com- 
fort, its  institutions  and  standards  of  conduct — that 
all  these  were  expressed  in  the  national  system.  If 
they  should  be,  a  sheer  impossibility,  then  political 
science  and  sociology  would  be  identical.  For  like 
reasons  it  is  self-evident  that  political  science  is  not 


THE  METHOD  OF  INQUIRY  175 


political  economy.  This,  too,  is  chiefly  concerned 
with  the  nice  adjustment  of  the  complex  material 
interests,  private  and  general,  which  enter  into  the 
perpetuation  of  any  social  state,  and  with  them  alone. 
Only  in  so  far  as  its  results  afifect  the  continuity  of 
national  life  in  the  succession  of  social  states  has  it 
any  relation  to  political  science.  Also  we  must  not 
confound  the  nation  itself  with  the  laws  which  guaran- 
tee its  stability.  The  systematizing  of  the  rights 
and  customs  which  underlie  national  life  is  but  one 
department  of  political  science  largely  considered; 
it  is  contributory,  but  is  not  the  discipline  itself. 

Man  is  a  being  capable  of  choice  in  regard  to  rules 
of  action  which  he  may  obey  or  disobey — whether 
these  rules  appear  to  be  dictated  by  revelation  or  by 
human  reason.  This  is  equally  true  of  the  nation. 
Political  science  thus  viewed  is  a  department  of  ethics 
and  may  be  called  political  ethics:  only  this  is  not  in 
the  least  helpful  constructively,  being  merely  a  change 
of  name:  its  value  lies  in  emphasizing  the  fact  of  na- 
tional responsibility  for  national  action.  No  one  dare 
contend  that  obligation  of  a  man  even  in  his  political 
relations  is  identical  with  the  obligation  of  a  political 
sovereignty,  however  expressed.  The  man  regards 
his  duty  to  God  and  his  duty  to  his  fellow  men, 
jeopardizing  not  only  his  present,  but  his  eternal 
welfare,  in  his  choice  and  in  his  conduct  according  to 
his  choice.  An  artificial  person  must  have  regard  to 
the  general  welfare  in  relation  to  an  existence  which 
is  in  no  sense  other-worldly,  but  which  safeguards  the 
conditions  of  general  prosperity,  happiness,  and 
morality  in  this  world.  It  is  much  the  higher  responsi- 
bility, viewed  from  the  standpoint  of  secular  science 
and  of  time  as  opposed  to  eternity.  Men  invested 
with  this  higher  responsibility  have  been  considered 
publicly  immaculate  while  privately  their  lives  were 
far  from  spotless,  while  from  the  days  of  King  Renee  to 


176        THE  METHOD  OF  INQUIRY 


those  of  William  II,  monarchs  of  spotless  private  life 
have  been  reprobated  for  guilty  public  life.  Public 
duty  is  determinative  of  everything  which  goes  to 
make  up  this  life,  alike  for  rulers  and  ruled. 

If  man  were  merely  a  creature  of  flesh  and  blood, 
if  he  had  no  soul  and  no  hope  of  a  future  life  there 
would  be  an  absolute  identity  of  public  and  private 
ethic,  for  personal  advantage  would  always  be  sub- 
ordinate to  that  of  the  public  and  the  general.  As 
he  is,  he  has  interests  which  far  transcend  those  of  the 
family  or  the  nation:  and  in  so  far  he  has  a  private 
personal  responsibility  far  above  his  duty  as  a  citizen. 
The  most  troublesome  task  he  knows  is  to  suit  the 
one  to  the  other.  He  cannot  justly  hold  himself  re- 
sponsible for  the  social  conditions  into  which  he  was 
born,  but  he  must  hold  himself  so,  for  his  relations  to 
his  Maker,  for  his  efforts  to  ameliorate  society  to  the 
best  of  his  ability.  Though  sometimes  hard  to  dis- 
cern there  is  a  line  of  demarcation  between  political 
and  personal  ethics.  It  was,  however,  a  counsel  of 
perfection  which  Confucius  gave  when  he  said:  if 
you  desire  to  govern  the  world  you  must  rule  your 
state  well;  if  you  desire  to  rule  your  state  well,  you 
must  arrange  your  home  well ;  if  you  desire  to  arrange 
your  home  well,  you  must  purify  your  heart. 

Keeping  in  view  the  various  aspects  of  politics,  the 
possible  methods  of  study,  and  its  relation  to  kindred 
subjects,  we  may  hope  to  frame  an  adequate  method 
of  investigation  and  to  secure  some  results  from  its 
application.  There  is  a  whole  range  of  sciences  which, 
though  not  exact,  in  the  sense  in  which  the  mathemati- 
cal sciences  are  exact,  are  nevertheless  eminently  use- 
ful and  practical.  In  any  department  of  human  in- 
vestigation we  have  to  posit  the  investigator's  limita- 
tions and  when  that  imperfect  creature  is  investigat- 
ing himself,  his  fellow  men,  or  his  race  the  factor  of 
uncertainty  becomes  much  greater  than  when  he 
works  with  inert  matter.    He  cannot  therefore  afford 


THE  METHOD  OF  INQUIRY  177 


to  neglect  any  means  to  his  end.  The  mere  super- 
ficial review  of  what  has  been  done  with  regard  to  the 
nation,  which  so  far  is  the  highest  form  of  human 
association,  seems  of  itself  adequate  to  prove  that  both 
the  historical  and  the  philosophical  methods  must  be 
blended  into  one  as  a  condition  antecedent  to  any 
further  advance.  If  this  be  done,  one  will  control  the 
other;  we  will  think  and  not  merely  catalogue;  that 
is  we  will  think  in  the  only  useful  way,  concretely. 

It  is  an  old  scholastic  saw  that  Nihil  est  in  intellectu 
quod  7ion  erat  in  sensu.  Political  theorizing  has  had 
so  close  a  relation  to  facts  that  it  really  gives  us  the 
essence  of  bygone  human  experience  in  a  convenient 
form.  Now  there  has  been  no  change  within  historic 
times  in  the  human  quality  which  makes  the  whole 
world  kin:  there  has  been  no  change  in  the  highest 
standards  of  human  conduct — truth,  honor,  justice 
have  not  changed  a  whit:  the  only  change  has  been 
in  the  steady  advance  of  human  capacity,  individual 
and  racial,  of  mind,  heart,  and  soul.  Man  and  men 
apprehend  truth,  honor,  and  justice  far  more  clearly 
to-day  than  they  did  at  the  dawn  of  history,  and  they 
are  stronger  to  suit  their  conduct  to  their  knowledge. 
We  find,  therefore,  that  human  progress  is  according 
to  tradition,  that  is,  along  lines  clearly  discernible  in 
history — the  experience  of  the  past  is  therefore  our 
guide  for  the  future.  But  to  repeat  the  past  in  the 
present  is  to  stagnate,  to  create  uniformity  is  to  stag- 
nate: the  very  essence  of  progress  is  change.  How 
far  then  are  we  to  venture  in  our  generation  beyond 
the  experience  of  the  last  generation  or  the  one  before 
that,  or  of  a  still  earlier  one  ?  Here  again  steps  in 
philosophy,  which,  by  the  close  scrutiny  of  man  as  he 
is  to-day,  and  by  the  use  of  broad  generalizations 
drawn  from  the  whole  sphere  of  knowledge,  is  able  to 
make  the  only  suggestions  which  are  helpful  and 
fruitful. 

A  despairing  Austrian  statesman  of  the  eighteenth 


178        THE  METHOD  OF  INQUIRY 


century  [Schwarzenberg]  exclaimed:  "I  can  learn 
nothing  from  history."  He  was  quite  right:  the  his- 
tory he  studied,  that  of  his  own  country,  and  the 
only  form  of  national  life  he  knew,  could  afford  him 
nothing  but  warnings;  its  contributions  to  construc- 
tive statesmanship  were  absolutely  undiscoverable. 
But  suppose  that  instead  of  the  history  of  Austria  he 
had  perused  the  general  or  philosophical  history  of 
Europe,  suppose  that  instead  of  the  narrow  art  he 
had  studied  the  broad  science  of  government,  based 
partly  on  the  speculations  of  his  century,  as  his  con- 
temporary Napoleon  Bonaparte  did,  partly  on  his- 
torical generalizations  from  the  experience  of  all 
civilized  men,  surely  he  would  have  found  much. 
Others  had  found  much:  men  like  Hardenberg  and 
Stein,  not  only  his  contemporaries  but  his  kinsfolk; 
men  like  Pitt  and  Burke,  who  had  girdled  the  globe 
with  English  settlements;  men  like  the  great  First 
Consul,  who  fixed  the  institutions  of  half  Europe  on 
a  plane  corresponding  with  the  ideas  of  the  revolu- 
tionary epoch.  The  nation  subsists  in  the  stability 
of  its  laws,  it  grows  in  the  vitality  of  its  institutions: 
philosophy  is  the  Apollos  which  waters  and  assures 
the  continuity  of  both,  alike  the  receptivity  of  mind 
and  the  courage  of  convictions. 

Another  proof  of  this,  if  additional  proof  be  needed, 
is  found  in  the  disastrous  absurdities  which  exclusive 
devotion  to  either  method  is  sure  to  produce.  We 
have  an  equal  contempt  for  the  empiric  and  for  the 
ideologue.  The  great  fact  of  this  hour  is  the  existence 
of  the  United  States.  We  are  not  European,  we  be- 
long neither  to  a  state  system  of  dynasties  nor  of  con- 
stitutional monarchies:  we  are  not  committed  to  any 
sectarianism  in  religion.  We  owe  our  existence  to  a 
protest  against  national  empirics,  for  George  III  had 
no  philosophy  of  history:  to  be  a  king  according  to 
his  mother's  instructions  was  to  be  an  absolute 


THE  METHOD  OF  INQUIRY  179 


monarch,  ruling  as  parliamentary  premier  as  well  as 
reigning;  to  be  a  Briton  was  to  be  a  Whig  of  the 
revolution,  as  he  declared  himself  to  be,  using  the 
supremacy  of  Parliament  as  a  fact  settled  for  all  time. 
Lo,  he  could  do  neither,  in  imperial  affairs,  at  least, 
and  it  was  left  for  us  to  show  how  new  theories  could 
supplement  historical  facts  and  give  free  vent  to  in- 
stitutional development.  As  another  instance  take 
the  French  Revolution.  Up  to  1789  the  revolution 
was  admirable;  in  that  year  the  historical  supports  of 
continuous  French  life,  the  upper  classes,  fled  and  the 
theorists  took  charge.  Napoleon's  ideologues.  With 
what  results  !  For  long  a  movement  among  the  most 
beneficent  in  history  was  disgraced  by  excesses,  dis- 
credited before  the  world;  and  the  course  of  reform 
was  retarded  by  nearly  a  century.  It  was  but  lately 
that  we  began  to  understand  the  majesty  of  those 
principles  for  which  it  stood. 


Ill 


THE  COURSE  OF  POLITICAL  THEORY 

PERSONAL  ELEMENTS  IN  PRIMITIVE  NATIONS  CONFUSION  OF  TEMPORAL 

AND  SPIRITUAL  POWER — SURVIVALS  OF  THEOCRACY  AND  OF  JOINT 
FAMILIES — THE  CITY-STATE  OF  GREECE  AND  ROME — THEIR  HISTORIC 

DEVELOPMENT — CHARACTER  AND  INFLUENCE  OF  POLITICAL  THEORY  

THE  MAXIMS  OF  THE  STOIC  PHILOSOPHY — THE  INFLUENCE  OF  CHRIS- 
TIANITY— SEPARATION  OF  CHURCH  AND  STATE— NATIONAL  ORGANIZA- 
TION AND  RELIGIOUS  IDEALS — THE  UNIVERSAL  CHURCH  HOSTILE  TO 
THE  NATION — TENDENCY  TO  NATIONALITY — THEORIES  OF  RELATION 
BETWEEN  SPIRITUAL  AND  SECULAR  POWERS — CHANGE  FROM  META- 
PHYSICAL TO  HISTORICAL  THOUGHT — THE  DOCTRINE  OF  SOVEREIGNTY. 

In  the  dawn  of  history  there  was  much  wisdom  and 
the  wise  men  were  for  the  most  part  political  phil- 
osophers. Nevertheless  they  drew  no  distinction 
between  politics  and  ethics.  The  basis  of  authority 
in  the  nation  appeared  to  be  threefold:  force  as  ex- 
emplified by  military  rule  and  conquest;  paternal 
authority  as  shown  in  the  character  of  the  king's 
precepts  and  the  nature  of  the  obedience  rendered  by 
his  subjects;  religion,  or  rather  superstition,  for  all 
government  was  theocratic  as  well  as  paternal  and 
despotic.  All  training  was  based  on  experience  and 
imitation;  education  was  the  learning  of  moral  pre- 
cepts suited  to  private  relations;  trades  and  profes- 
sions, including  the  priesthood,  descended  in  families, 
and,  except  when  disturbed  by  war,  the  formation  of 
caste  began  and  continued  until  the  process  was  more 
or  less  complete.  Under  the  patriarchal  system  the 
arts  flourished  amazingly,  there  was  a  majestic  size  in 
the  enterprises  undertaken  and  a  high  perfection  in 
finish.  Witness  the  pyramids,  the  palace  of  Dur 
Saryukin,  the  great  stones  at  Petraea. 

Yet  these  enterprises  all  appear  to  have  had  a  con- 
nection with  military  control,  having  been  carried  on 

1 80 


THE  COURSE  OF  POLITICAL  THEORY  i8i 


by  slaves  taken  in  warfare  or  by  subject  nations. 
Little  by  little,  labor  was  relegated  to  those  who  were 
not  citizens  or  even  subjects,  and  it  was  thus  steadily 
degraded.  As  it  is  an  inexorable  social  law  that  such 
social  conditions  beget  greed,  pride,  self-indulgence, 
prodigality  and  finally  dishonesty;  and  as  these  in 
turn  destroy  the  man,  so,  as  we  might  expect  from  a 
paternal  despotism,  the  earliest  political  theorizing 
consists  largely  of  moral  precepts  directed  against  all 
these  vices.  The  nearest  thing  to  law  is  the  careful 
regulation  of  all  the  relations  existing  between  persons 
and  among  various  classes.  These  regulations  enter 
into  the  minutest  details  and  in  the  confusion  of  tem- 
poral with  spiritual  power  they  are  enforced  by  re- 
ligious sanctions.  It  is  by  supernatural  power  that  the 
relation  of  sovereign  to  individuals,  of  individuals  to 
the  nation,  and  of  individuals  to  each  other  are  sup- 
posed to  be  controlled.  Before  such  a  supreme 
authority  the  man  is  nothing;  and  when  the  ruler  who 
embodies  it,  likewise  personifies  national  authority, 
the  man,  the  individual  as  such,  has  no  worth ;  he  is  a 
worm  of  the  dust. 

There  is  therefore  in  the  great  Oriental  theocracies 
no  general,  rational  controlling  influence,  there  is  no 
public  opinion,  there  is  no  intelligent  legislation,  based 
on  right  or  high  expediency;  there  is  nothing  but  the 
incarnation  of  physical  force  behind  the  mask  of  pa- 
ternal and  religious  authority.  What  passes  for  law 
is  custom ;  morality  is  a  more  or  less  rigid  habit ;  the 
nation  has  no  organization.  The  touchstone  of  con- 
duct being  a  narrow  experience,  repetition  and  itera- 
tion are  the  aims  of  life  and  this  cramped  conservatism 
becomes  first  immobility,  then  stagnation.  How  this 
works  when  the  unit  is  small  may  be  seen  in  the  tribes 
of  Bedouin  roaming  the  deserts,  in  the  village  com- 
munities or  joint  families  of  Ceylon,  in  the  Russian 
Mir  and  other  similar  survivals  which  have  come 


1 82    THE  COURSE  OF  POLITICAL  THEORY 


down  through  the  centuries  virtually  untouched  by 
time  or  unchanged  by  outer  influences.  The  great 
Oriental  theocracies  of  the  Nile  and  of  the  lands  be- 
tween Tigris  and  Euphrates  disintegrated  before  the 
forces  of  western  civilization;  but  Japan  survived  un- 
til yesterday  and  China  was  immutable  almost  until 
to-day,  in  spite  of  the  shocks  of  foreign  and  intestine 
wars,  in  spite  of  contact  with  western  peoples,  in  spite 
of  conquest  and  the  establishment  of  foreign  dynasties. 
The  theory  of  such  nations  was  one  of  dangerous 
simplicity:  a  family  including  all  families;  the  father 
the  emperor,  priest,  and  embodied  force;  the  people 
enjoying  divine  favor  through  him  and  owing  obedi- 
ence by  both  sacerdotal  and  natural  sanctions. 

At  first  sight  the  city-state  of  Greece  and  Rome 
does  not  differ  widely  from  the  Oriental  theocracies 
in  any  essential  features.  Society  was  founded  in 
superstition — the  common  worship  of  the  sacred  fire 
and  of  ancestors  was  in  the  family  superior  even  to  the 
bond  of  natural  relationship;  the  institutions  of  the 
nation  were  largely  military,  and  slavery  was  defended 
as  necessary  in  order  that  drudgery  should  be  done 
by  those  who  had  no  interest  in  the  freeman's  occupa- 
tions of  war  and  politics.  There  was  likewise  a  com- 
plete subordination  of  the  individual  to  the  com- 
munity. The  highest  authority  knew  only  the  family, 
not  its  members.  They,  the  individuals,  were  subject 
to  the  patriarchal  authority  of  the  eldest  male,  who 
was  both  priest  and  ruler.  The  loftiest  ideal  known 
even  to  the  Greece  of  Pericles  was  to  be  a  good  citizen 
rather  than  to  be  a  good  man.  To  the  end  that  per- 
sonal and  national  action  may  harmonize  in  the  high- 
est degree,  the  general  will  regulates  every  department 
of  life,  domestic  and  social  as  well  as  public.  But  on 
the  other  hand  the  differences  between  Greece  and 
Rome,  on  the  one  hand,  and  the  Oriental  theocracies 
on  the  other,  are  more  radical  than  their  resemblances. 


THE  COURSE  OF  POLITICAL  THEORY  183 


There  is  a  great  advance.  There  is  a  federation  of 
recognized  units,  the  common  relations  of  which  are 
regulated  by  common  consent,  following  on  dis- 
cussion, so  that  the  federal  principle  is  recognized. 
The  thralls  of  customary  law  are  broken  and  mos  is 
supplemented  by  lex,  custom  by  choice ;  and  most  im- 
portant of  all  there  is  the  recognition  of  the  general  good, 
the  public  affair,  the  commonwealth.  The  very  rigid- 
ity of  the  prehistoric  city-state  seemed  to  create  a 
sense  of  security  so  great  that  discussion  and  debate 
might  not  merely  be  allowed  but  invited.  It  was  be- 
lieved that  without  much  reference  to  political  habit 
or  institutional  growth  remedies  for  all  existing  ills 
might  be  found  in  the  human  reason.  Moreover 
the  physical  constitution  of  Greece  is  such  that  in  the 
absence  of  easy  land  communication  many  states  were 
formed  in  one  people  and  the  interstate  relations  thus 
established  were  a  subject  of  constant  care  to  each 
separately,  to  the  nation  as  a  whole.  This  was  a 
matter  of  no  regret  to  the  Greeks,  their  free  spirit  and 
active  minds  made  them  the  creator  of  speculative 
philosophy  and  no  questions  were  subjected  to  closer 
scrutiny  than  those  concerned  with  public  affairs. 

The  dawn  of  their  history  shows  the  city-states  of 
Greece  and  Rome  already  verging  toward  revolution 
and  their  history  is  the  narrative  of  their  gradual 
transformation:  of  how  the  patriarchal,  sacerdotal, 
kingship  was  abolished  and  the  sovereignty  vested  in 
the  heads  of  families;  of  how  these  in  turn  ceased  to 
command  obedience  and  respect;  of  how,  finally,  the 
national  will  found  expression  through  the  assembly 
of  all  the  free-born  men;  of  how  patricians  and  ple- 
beians were  commingled  in  the  exercise  of  authority 
on  the  basis  of  citizenship;  of  how  citizenship  was 
gradually  extended  beyond  the  walls  of  the  polls  or 
civitas  ;  of  how  in  an  unorganized  democracy  tyrants 
cirose;   of  how  heathen  beliefs  utterly  disappeared 


i84   THE  COURSE  OF  POLITICAL  THEORY 


before  Christianity  and  new  constructive  influences 
supplanted  the  destructive  ones  of  heathen  philosophy. 
Through  all  this  long  period  the  great  disintegrating 
force  was  doubt.  Greek  philosophy  is  strongest  on 
its  destructive  side,  as  regards  public  life.  It  saw  that 
in  the  advance  of  knowledge  men  had  forgotten  the 
meaning  of  the  public  fires,  the  public  feasts,  and  all 
the  rest  of  the  observances  based  on  the  old  forgotten, 
discredited  superstitions.  If  there  be  a  supreme  be- 
ing the  local  worships  were  meaningless;  if  there 
be  a  human  conscience  that  and  not  custom  must 
control  politics.  It  was  in  ranking  truth  above  cus- 
tom and  justice  above  law  that  Socrates'  treason 
consisted,  for  the  statement  and  acceptance  of  that 
fact  were  subversive  of  the  entire  system  of  national 
union  as  it  then  existed. 

Thenceforward,  however,  thought  was  free  to  deal 
with  every  great  political  problem.  Plato  could  not 
let  the  city-state  go,  but  at  least  he  substituted  real 
education  for  tradition.  Even  Aristotle  clung  to 
slavery,  but  he  made  the  radical  departure  of  proving 
that  the  nation  is  in  no  sense  the  analogue  of  the  men 
who  compose  it,  its  organism  being  different  both  in 
degree  and  in  kind.  He  showed  that  man  without 
family,  without  law,  justice,  affection,  and  the  associa- 
tion which  springs  from  these,  is  not  man  but  one  of 
the  lowest,  feeblest,  animals.  The  Cynics  recognized 
the  two  fundamental  errors  of  both  Plato  and  Aristotle. 
They  asserted  the  rights  of  man  as  man;  and  dis- 
played the  dignity  of  labor.  Diogenes  was  a  citizen 
of  the  world,  a  universal  philanthropist;  and  not  un- 
like many  of  his  kind  to-day,  an  enemy  of  family,  of 
property,  and  of  country.  It  was  the  Stoics  who  set 
bounds  to  the  two  extremes  of  Plato  and  Diogenes. 
They  separated  the  man  from  the  citizen  and  freed 
him  from  the  yoke  of  the  state,  making  clear  the  dis- 
tinction between  private  and  civic  virtue.    This  is  a 


THE  COURSE  OF  POLITICAL  THEORY  185 


corollary  of  their  great  doctrine  of  the  unity  of  man- 
kind. On  the  other  hand  association  is  the  order  of 
the  universe — man,  therefore,  is  not  merely  a  part  of 
the  whole,  a  man  among  men  wherever  found;  he  is 
likewise  a  member  of  one  society  and  as  such  must  take 
his  share  in  its  affairs,  while  not  neglecting  his  duties 
'  as  one  of  the  race.  Said  Marcus  Aurelius :  as  Anto- 
nine  I  have  Rome  for  my  country,  as  a  man,  the  world. 
The  benches  of  the  Roman  theatre  rang  with  applause 
as  the  spectators  heard  Terence's  words:  I  am  a 
man  and  consider  nothing  that  pertains  to  man  for- 
eign to  me.  As  this  feeling  spread  and  Roman 
citizenship  was  extended  until  under  Caracalla  it 
was  virtually  held  on  the  basis  of  manhood,  a  cosmo- 
politanism was  finally  established,  which  marked  the 
culmination  of  a  new  speculative  system,  and  meant 
the  overthrow  of  the  municipal  regime.  The  local, 
separate,  municipal,  spirit  in  every  community  of 
Greece  rendered  impossible  any  true  union  of  an  or- 
ganic nature:  the  same  particularism  explains  the 
difficulties  of  early  Roman  conquests;  its  steady 
weakening  under  the  influence  of  philosophy  enabled 
her  to  absorb  even  her  Greek  and  Oriental  provinces. 

With  this  the  constructive  power  of  heathen 
thought  came  to  an  end,  Plato  at  his  best  can 
only  conceive  of  a  communistic  Utopia,  Aristotle's 
highest  concern  is  the  comparison  of  Greek  constitu- 
tions: neither  evolves  anything  new  which  is  prac- 
tical. Cicero  and  Polybius  attempted  to  construct 
systems;  the  results  seem  attractive  but  they  are 
vague  and  never  formed  a  basis  for  action.  The  great 
jurists  of  the  empire — Gains,  Paul,  Papinian,  Ulpian, 
Modestus — introduced  into  the  Roman  law  the  grand 
maxims  of  Stoicism,  which  was  the  philosophy  of 
their  education  and  their  choice.  But,  with  all  that, 
they  never  could  rid  themselves  of  the  old,  discredited, 
worn-out  beliefs  as  the  only  conceivable  sanction, 


i86   THE  COURSE  OF  POLITICAL  THEORY 


even  when  they  turned  them  into  fictions.  The  Caesar 
was  still  Divus  and  Pontifex  Maximus.  It  was  at 
bottom  an  Oriental  despotism  which  was  the  sover- 
eign and  any  advance  they  were  able  to  make  was  not 
on  high  philosophic  ground,  but  only  on  that  of 
expediency,  or,  at  best,  of  experience.  And  thus, 
exactly  as  the  theory  of  equality  made  headway, 
true  liberty  ceased  to  exist:  with  the  absorption  of 
the  classes  into  the  masses  the  necessary  expression 
of  the  public  will  was  found  in  an  absolute  despotic 
government.  From  one  point  of  view  the  inhabitant 
of  the  Roman  empire  enjoyed  a  theoretical  liberty, 
but  it  was  at  the  price  of  civil  slavery. 

The  city-state  was  built  up  by  a  superstition. 
Around  the  vital  principle  of  faith,  conviction,  sin- 
cerity of  conduct,  grew  up  the  organic  constitution 
and  its  system  of  civic  control;  organic,  because  it 
grew  from  within,  assimilating  the  materials  it  used 
and  adapting  itself,  as  best  it  might,  to  its  environ- 
ment and  its  tasks.  It  performed  a  great  work  and 
in  its  exertions  the  primitive  beliefs  on  which  it  was 
founded  were  first  discredited  and  then  forgotten, 
while  the  institutions  based  upon  them  long  con- 
tinued to  exist.  They  in  turn  ceased  to  correspond 
to  the  social  state  into  which  they  had  survived :  but 
even  then  there  was  nothing  to  substitute  in  their  place 
because  the  beliefs  of  men  were  negative  and  de- 
structive. It  was  not  until  the  greatest  event  in 
history,  the  appearance  of  Christ  upon  earth,  took 
place  that  any  new  constructive  beliefs  could  be 
substituted  for  the  old.  What  was  the  new  princi- 
ple? The  answers  have  been  innumerable  and  as 
various  as  the  minds  of  those  who  sought  them.  One 
thing  only  has  seemed  certain:  that  society  has  been 
born  again,  as  well  as  the  men  who  compose  it;  so 
have  nations  and  their  governments.  New  institutions 
have  arisen  and  have  found  their  expression  in  new 


THE  COURSE  OF  POLITICAL  THEORY  187 


forms  of  government;  the  worth  of  man  as  man  has 
been  estabHshed  on  a  new  basis;  justice  is  done  as 
never  before  and  progress,  though  often  checked,  has 
attained  a  certainty  and  regularity  of  movement 
which  it  never  had  before. 

If  we  search  the  Scriptures  for  political  maxims  our 
harvest  is  but  scanty,  whereas  if  we  examine  the  rec- 
ords of  the  Christian  ages  it  is  abundant.  The  his- 
torical Christ  expressly  disclaimed  earthly  dominion. 
He  would  not  only  render  to  Caesar  what  was  Caesar's, 
but  at  the  hands  of  the  civil  authority  he  suffered  the 
extremest  penalty  of  accumulated  human  sinfulness. 
His  followers  were  persecuted  and  his  religion  outlawed 
for  generation  after  generation.  It  was  not  peace,  but 
a  sword  which  he  sent  and  that  sword  was  the  power 
of  an  endless  life  in  the  hearts  and  minds  of  his  fol- 
lowers. For  centuries  the  church  took  no  cognizance 
of  the  state  except  to  avoid  its  interference,  and  in 
humble  retirement  Christianity  spread  its  teachings 
and  gathered  in  its  disciples  with  their  adherents. 
When  it  steps  forth  into  secular  history,  weak  no 
longer,  but  strong,  it  is  organized  as  an  independent 
force,  with  no  confusion  between  itself  and  the  state. 
The  city-state  was  a  community  of  religion  and  wor- 
ship among  heathen  citizens:  its  successor,  whatever 
it  may  be,  can  no  longer  be  that,  if  all  or  a  majority 
of  its  citizens  be  Christians,  for  now  church  and  state 
are  no  longer  one,  but  two.  The  nation  as  a  com- 
munity can  only  have  in  common  civil  and  political 
rights:  the  church  takes  charge  of  men's  spiritualities 
and  is  the  community  of  faith  and  worship. 

This  is  the  fundamental  fact  of  twenty  centuries: 
the  separation  of  church  and  state.  Neither  their 
spheres  nor  their  relations  have  been  clearly  defined, 
we  are  busy  with  that  yet.  Some  things,  however, 
are  clear.  National  sovereignty  might  control  a 
man's  body  and  estate;  Christianity  is  supreme  in 


i88   THE  COURSE  OF  POLITICAL  THEORY 


his  spiritual  life,  and  thus  God,  the  family,  the  in- 
dividual, are  placed  above  the  state  in  importance; 
and  as  all  Christian  men  have  a  common  father  and 
a  common  redemption,  so  they  are  brothers  in  the 
closest  sense  and  have  duties  to  each  other  and  to 
their  fellow  men  which  transcend  the  bounds  of  a 
narrow  patriotism.  Christianity  emancipated  law 
from  supernatural  sanction  and  established  its  basis 
in  morals;  it  established  the  right  of  property  in 
labor  and  destroyed  the  sacred  landmarks  fixed  by 
the  limits  of  worship.  What  heathendom  and  mere 
philosophy  had  dimly  guessed,  was  plainly  revealed 
by  Christianity — the  fatherhood  of  God,  the  brother- 
hood of  Christ,  the  perfect  morality  of  the  Sermon  on 
the  Mount,  the  clear  conceptions  of  immortality 
and  responsibility,  the  ideals  of  charity,  benevolence, 
and  love.  As  these  have  wrought  to  regenerate  the 
man,  so  the  social  union  of  men  has  displayed  qualities 
hitherto  unknown,  and  the  national  organism  has  pre- 
pared itself  for  duties  and  activities  it  once  would  have 
been  unfit  to  undertake. 

In  the  early  ages  of  effort  to  effect  a  modus  vivendi 
between  church  and  state  there  were  two  powerful 
factors  which  had  to  be  reckoned  with:  the  Teutonic 
spirit  and  the  tremendous  prestige  of  Rome.  Ab- 
solutism was  destined  to  fall  before  the  free  spirit  of 
the  primitive  Teuton;  with  his  uncouth  disregard  of 
theory  he  remained  free  as  he  was  born  free,  and, 
asserting  with  emphasis  the  natural  right  of  the  in- 
dividual, he  preserved  what  was  best  in  his  birthright, 
administering  rude  justice,  destroying  centralization, 
and  securing  local  self-government.  The  church, 
however,  became  for  a  time  the  heir  of  imperial  Rome 
and  of  Roman  imperialism,  arrogating  to  herself  as  an 
organization  the  succession  of  the  empire  not  merely 
in  spiritual  authority,  but  in  temporal.  So  brilliant 
and  dazzling  was  Roman  tradition  that  ecclesiasticism 


THE  COURSE  OF  POLITICAL  THEORY  189 


of  this  type  was  able  to  take  advantage  of  the  disor- 
der consequent  on  the  appearance  of  the  Germans  as 
the  new  historic  race  and  by  conserving  whatever  was 
best  in  society  and  institutions  within  the  bosom  of  its 
organization,  an  organization  continuous  and  power- 
ful, to  usurp  many  functions  which  belonged  essen- 
tially to  man:  material,  social  life,  and,  having 
usurped  them  to  keep  them  for  a  long  time.  Inas- 
much as  Christianity  was  universal,  men  reasoned, 
so  must  also  the  political  power  of  Christendom  be 
universal  and  the  continuity  of  the  Roman  empire, 
therefore,  be  unbroken.  This  for  a  time  utterly 
destroyed  the  possibility  of  such  a  concept  as  nation- 
ality, even  among  the  most  enlightened  men  of  a 
dark  age. 

The  Middle  Ages  were  essentially  unpolitical.  The 
tumults  of  immigration  and  its  consequent  inter- 
mingling of  races,  resulted  in  both  mental  and  physical 
oppression;  amid  the  clash  of  arms  men  resorted  for 
the  protection  of  life  and  property  to  temporary  ex- 
pedients rather  than  to  permanent  principles.  In 
theory  there  was  one  nation,  in  reality  there  was  none. 
The  only  political  system  was,  to  use  a  paradox,  in 
reality  a  social  one :  that  of  feudalism.  As  time  went 
on  social  order  was  gradually  reestablished  on  the 
basis  of  personal  relations;  with  the  accretion  of  fiefs 
or  little  rudimentary  states,  there  arose  again  some- 
thing truly  political,  a  number  of  small  and  imperfect 
but  real  nations.  In  them  the  form  of  government 
was  that  of  a  limited  monarchy;  slavery  had  dis- 
appeared and  personal  rights  were  recognized,  though 
of  course  imperfectly;  the  state  is  something  else  than 
the  church;  and  although  their  relative  powers  are 
not  determined,  the  tendency  is  toward  nationality, 
toward  national  churches  rather  than  a  universal. 
Catholic,  church;  the  unity  of  functions  and  powers 
in  hereditary  offices  has  made  way  for  the  separation 


I90   THE  COURSE  OF  POLITICAL  THEORY 


of  legislation  and  administration;  the  direct  inter- 
vention of  the  supernatural  is  modified  into  a  belief 
that  the  king  is  the  vice-gerent  of  God;  the  notion 
of  citizenship  as  dependent  on  community  of  birth 
and  worship  is  so  far  changed  that  although  the  citi- 
zen of  a  Christian  state  must  be  a  Christian,  yet  there 
is  a  distinction  clearly  drawn  between  civil  and  private 
duties.  Any  man  may  enjoy  his  civil  rights  although 
only  a  Christian  has  full  political  rights.  In  general, 
principles  of  high  morality  and  absolute  right  demand 
and  get  recognition  and  there  is  in  existence  a  true 
state  system  based  on  community  of  rights  and  terri- 
tory. 

As  the  great  question  of  the  Middle  Ages  was 
the  relation  of  the  spiritual  to  the  temporal  power, 
so  the  political  speculation  of  the  same  period  all 
turns  about  the  same  question.  On  both  sides  there 
were  men  of  all  sorts:  of  both  extremes,  and  moder- 
ates. The  two  leaders  on  opposing  sides  were  respec- 
tively Thomas  Aquinas  [1225-1274]  and  Dante  [1265- 
1321].  The  latter  was  an  Imperialist  Ghibelline,  suf- 
fering exile  for  his  belief  in  the  emperor  as  the  su- 
preme and  universal  monarch.  As  a  political  phil- 
osopher he  must  rank  very  low;  but  the  splendor  of 
his  genius  brought  his  belief  and  his  behavior  both 
into  the  greatest  prominence:  his  conception  of  a 
secular  power  supreme  in  secular  matters  was  im- 
pressed upon  men  by  him  as  no  other  could  have 
done  it.  The  great  ecclesiastical  doctor  [Doctor 
Angelicus]  on  the  other  hand  was  the  most  subtle  and 
liberal  political  speculator  who  ever  argued  on  be- 
half of  papal  supremacy;  and  his  writings  to-day  are 
a  living  power  in  the  United  States  as  elsewhere. 
Political  power  as  pertaining  to  the  will  of  men,  he 
taught,  is  of  human  right;  the  institutions  by  which 
God  reveals  himself  to  men  are  alone  of  divine  right. 
The  powers  that  be  are  ordained  of  God.    Yes;  but 


THE  COURSE  OF  POLITICAL  THEORY  191 


only  power  in  itself:  the  relation  of  ruler  and  ruled, 
power  in  action,  the  concrete  exercise  of  power,  is  not 
necessarily  so.  What  is  the  essence  of  sovereignty  ? 
Law-making.  Where  does  it  reside?  In  the  people 
and  it  is  only  as  their  representative  that  the  prince 
makes  laws.  In  this  lies  the  legitimacy  of  the  prince 
and  if  he  happens  to  have  obtained  power  justly,  he 
must,  even  though  a  bad  man,  be  obeyed:  the  dis- 
obedient must  sufifer.  But,  either  violence  or  the  long 
continued  abuse  of  power,  or  the  sin  of  simony, 
destroys  legitimacy.  To  power  thus  obtained  subjects 
owe  no  obedience:  "tyrannicides,"  he  cautiously 
adds,  "have  been  praised."  He  is  equally  cautious 
about  papal  pretensions,  although  he  thinks  the 
pope  "utriusque  apicem  tenet,''^  and  claims  that  in 
case  of  conflict  the  spiritual  is  higher  than  the  tem- 
poral power. 

The  arguments  of  mediaevalism  on  both  sides  were 
purely  metaphysical.  With  the  rise  of  a  state  system 
in  Europe,  and,  in  the  enlightenment  of  the  intellectual 
and  spiritual  renaissance,  the  whole  character  of  po- 
litical thinking  changed.  This  was  due  to  Machia- 
velli  [1469-1527]  whose  supreme  merit  it  was  to  in- 
troduce the  historical,  critical,  and  comparative 
method.  By  him  was  announced  the  supreme  truth 
of  political  science:  that  what  men  can  do  and  ought 
to  do  may  only  be  learned  by  examining  what  they 
have  done;  in  the  light  of  reason  and  common  sense. 
To  this  end  he  made  choice  of  Roman  history. 
Francis  Hotman  [i  524-1 590]  in  the  Franco-Gallia, 
used  the  same  method,  but  having  inherited  the  spirit 
of  reform,  he  examined  the  French  monarchy  in  order 
to  secure  its  improvement.  Hubert  Languet  [1518- 
1581]  aimed  at  a  general  reformation  in  politics:  In 
his  VindicicE  contra  Tyrannos  he  took  recourse  to 
sacred  history  and  became  the  father  of  the  con- 
tract theory  which  is  one  of  the  most  modern  of  all 


192    THE  COURSE  OF  POLITICAL  THEORY 


the  ideas  advanced  to  account  for  the  modern  nation. 
Simultaneously  with  the  Protestant  writers,  the 
Jesuits  also  were  busy.  The  greatest  among  them 
was  Suarez  [1548-16 17]  who  transformed  the  system 
of  Thomas  Aquinas,  adapting  it  to  modern  thought 
and  avoiding  in  his  teachings  the  pitfalls  laid  for 
mediaeval  ecclesiasticism  by  the  Protestants,  during 
the  latter  half  of  the  sixteenth  century. 

The  next  great  discovery  in  regard  to  the  nation 
was  that  of  political  sovereignty  as  an  absolute  and 
perpetual  power.  This  was  the  work  of  Jean  Bodin 
[i530~i596]  who  anticipated  Hobbes  by  a  whole 
century.  Absolute  monarchy  having  been  estab- 
lished, he  proceeded  to  examine  the  permanent  ele- 
ments of  sovereignty  and  nationality  for  which  they 
stood.  After  the  work  of  absolutism  was  done  the 
next  step  was  to  destroy  despotism  by  means  of 
political  philosophy,  while  preserving  both  sovereignty 
and  nationality.  This  was  the  work  of  Locke  and 
Rousseau.  Both  proceeded  by  a  remodelling  of  the 
contract  theory  and  an  appeal  to  natural  rights.  By 
them,  with  the  practical  assistance  of  the  universal 
belief  in  the  sanctity  of  property,  were  accomplished 
the  three  great  revolutions  which  ushered  in  our  own 
times. 


IV 


THE  NATION  IN  THEORY  AND  FACT 

RELATION  OF  THEORY  TO  FACT — SUPERNATURAL  AUTHORITY  IN  THE 
NATION — THE  STATE  AN  INSTITUTION  ORDAINED  OF  GOD — NATIONAL 
AUTHORITY  CONSIDERED  AS  AN  EVIL — THE  FORCE  THEORY — THE 
SOCIAL-CONTRACT  THEORY — REASONS  FOR  ITS  DISCREDIT — THE  DERIVA- 
TION OF  THE  STATE  FROM  THE  FAMILY — GOVERNMENT  AND  THE  STATE 
AN  IMMORAL  INCIDENT — THE  NATION  AS  A  JURAL  SOCIETY — THE 
NATION  AS  AN  ECONOMIC  SOCIETY — THE  STATE  AS  A  MORAL  ORGANISM 
— SPECULATION  BASED  ON  PREHISTORIC  INVESTIGATION  THE  PRIMI- 
TIVE SOCIETY  A  FAMILY  RELATIONSHIP — LOCAL  FAMILY  WORSHIP  A 
BOND  OF  UNION — FEDERATION  OF  TRIBES — THE  CITY-STATE. 

Every  effort  to  study  the  natural  history  of  a  nation 
seems  to  result  in  some  theory;  for  the  simple  reason 
that  in  every  department  of  historical  study  it  is  ab- 
solutely necessary  to  follow  some  hypothesis  or  theory : 
without  it  there  can  be  no  orderly  arrangement  of  the 
facts  ascertained.  The  theories  which  thus  emerge 
have  each  and  all  their  value;  for  there  is  not  one 
which  does  not  shadow  forth  a  great  truth  or  at  least 
one  side  of  a  truth.  Political  heresies  are  for  the  most 
part  similar  to  those  of  theology,  being  the  perversion, 
distortion  or  undue  emphasis  of  a  truth.  For  pur- 
poses of  convenience  we  may  follow  the  accepted  divi- 
sion of  them  into  two  categories :  those  which  attrib- 
ute a  divine  nature  and  origin  to  the  nation,  and 
those  which  proceed  upon  purely  secular  grounds. 
The  ancient  Orientals  held  not  so  much  that  a  super- 
natural power  intervened  directly  in  their  national 
affairs,  as  that  the  expression  of  the  national  sover- 
eignty was  itself  divine.  This  has  never  been  a 
modern  theory,  and  may,  therefore,  be  passed  by. 
So  also  may  the  unique  instance  of  the  Jewish  theoc- 
racy, in  which  divine  sovereignty  upheld  and  con- 

193 


194    THE  NATION  IN  THEORY  AND  FACT 


trolled  the  state  and  in  which  the  will  of  God,  directly 
revealed,  was  the  law. 

The  ancient  Greeks  and  Romans  constantly  sought 
in  their  public  and  private  worship  to  secure  the  good 
will  of  the  gods  for  the  state  and  likewise  to  secure 
through  oracles,  omens,  and  auguries  some  manifesta- 
tion of  the  divine  will  to  guide  them  in  their  conduct 
of  public  affairs.  To  their  latest  day  a  very  few  of 
their  historians  remembered  their  origins:  and  even 
Plutarch  declared  that  it  would  be  easier  to  found  a 
city  without  ground  than  for  a  state  to  be  formed  or 
to  last,  without  faith.  The  moral  order  of  the  uni- 
verse under  a  personal  God  is  one  of  the  fundamental 
doctrines  of  Christianity.  The  only  question,  there- 
fore, in  the  Middle  Ages,  was  whether  the  authority  of 
the  state  was  exercised  through  the  emperor  directly 
from  God;  or  through  the  pope  communicating  the 
divine  authority  to  the  emperor.  It  is  a  remarkable 
and  instructive  fact  that  St.  Augustine,  Gregory  the 
Great,  Thomas  Aquinas,  and  Suarez,  find  the  source 
of  national  authority  to  be  derived  from  God  through 
the  people.  If  this  be  true  and  if  the  pope  have  the 
only  authority  derived  directly  from  God,  viz., 
the  spiritual,  it  follows  that  his  is  the  higher;  but 
only  in  spiritual,  not  in  secular,  affairs. 

This  theory  has  been  thoroughly  modernized  and 
is  to-day  held  by  far  the  largest  majority  of  Christian 
men  and  women  in  the  Roman  church.  Niebuhr 
expresses  the  general  Protestant  German  view,  held 
since  Luther  asserted  that  the  three  holy  orders  were, 
not  bishops,  priests,  and  deacons,  but  the  family,  the 
church,  and  the  state.  It  follows,  thought  the  great 
historian,  that  the  state  is  an  institution  ordained  of 
God,  necessary  to  the  existence  of  man,  like  marriage 
or  the  parental  relation.  Our  own  Washington  in  his 
inaugural  address  makes  his  fervent  supplications  to 
"that  Almighty  Being  who  rules  over  the  universe. 


THE  NATION  IN  THEORY  AND  FACT  195 


who  presides  in  the  councils  of  nations,  and  whose 
Providential  aids  can  supply  every  defect."  The 
Calvinists,  who  so  strongly  impressed  our  political 
institutions,  were  such  firm  believers  in  this  theory — 
at  least  the  New  England  branch  of  them — that  the 
primitive  colonial  governments  were  more  or  less 
theocratic,  that  of  Massachusetts  in  a  high  degree. 
The  Scotch  Presbyterians  carefully  drew  the  line  of 
demarkation  between  church  and  state,  having  suf- 
fered wofully  from  the  confusion  of  the  two  in  Ire- 
land, and  even  in  Scotland  itself.  This  theory  is 
also  that  of  the  most  enlightened  Roman  Catholics 
in  America.  Brownson  declared  that  political  author- 
ity is  derived  by  the  collective  people  or  society  from 
God  through  the  law  of  nature,  that  law  transmitted 
from  Adam  through  reason  and  those  traditions  of 
the  primitive  instruction  embodied  in  language  as 
the  jus  gentium.  He  has  the  support  of  modern  for- 
eigners like  Stahl,  de  Bonald,  and  Joseph  de  Maistre. 

Our  latest  materialistic  and  agnostic  philosophies, 
represented  in  the  writings  of  Herbert  Spencer,  look 
upon  the  existence  of  national  authority  as  an  unmixed 
evil  from  the  operation  of  which  the  individual  is  to 
be  freed  in  the  golden  age  which  is  coming  as  the 
result  of  evolution.  The  object  of  authority  is  to 
terrify  evil-doers,  and  assure  each  man  his  due  share 
of  what  there  is  to  be  enjoyed.  This  was  virtually 
the  doctrine  of  quite  another  class  of  thinkers,  those 
who  looked  backward,  not  forward,  to  the  state  of 
primitive  nature,  not  as  a  time  of  conflict  and  struggle, 
but  as  a  golden  age  past,  never  to  return.  There  were 
also  others  who  saw  the  golden  age  in  the  Garden  of 
Eden:  who  regarded  the  state  of  man  after  the  fall 
as  a  stormy  time  of  hate,  conflict,  and  misery.  It  is 
rather  difficult  to  see  how  that  which  represses  evil 
can  itself  be  evil;  how  an  agent  can  at  the  same 
time  be  repressive  and  formative.    Moreover,  at  the 


196    THE  NATION  IN  THEORY  AND  FACT 


basis  of  such  a  conception  lies  the  false  view  of  man 
which  regards  him  as  repugnant  to  association;  as 
selfish  and  solitary. 

The  next  theory  is  of  course  the  force  theory; 
that  which  gives  to  the  strong  because  they  are 
strong,  authority  over  the  weak  because  they  are 
weak,  because  they  cannot  resist.  According  to  such 
a  theory  there  is  no  need  of  law  or  of  morality:  for  all 
are  either  despots  or  slaves.  In  its  bald  statement 
it  had  generally  been  scorned  until  the  German 
Empire  began,  about  1905,  to  proclaim  it  from  the 
housetop.  Nevertheless  it  did  covertly  underlie  a 
commonly  or  at  least  widely  accepted  definition  of 
law,  viz.,  a  rule  enforced  by  a  sovereign.  Austin, 
Holland,  and  all  the  writers  of  the  analytical  school 
have  so  held.  As  a  matter  of  fact  nations  have  been 
born  again  and  again  in  war,  much  more  often  than 
by  treaty — but  nevertheless  the  history  of  jurispru- 
dence shows  that  laws  based  on  immoral  principles 
are  no  laws,  whatever  sanction  may  be  behind  them; 
and  political  history  shows  that  might  without  right 
is  never  constructive,  but  results  in  devastation  and 
disorder;  while  might  conjoined  with  right  has  often 
been  the  inception  of  order  in  society.  "The  strongest 
is  never  strong  enough  to  be  always  the  master,  if 
he  does  not  transform  his  might  into  right  and  his 
obedience  into  duty"  are  the  admirable  words  of 
Rousseau. 

Next  in  order  of  the  purely  secular  theories  comes 
the  theory  of  social  contract.  Languet  discovered 
in  Jewish  history  a  tripartite  agreement  between  the 
Jewish  people,  Saul,  and  God.  All  Protestants  be- 
lieved in  the  right  of  resistance.  Hobbes  ingeniously 
based  existing  institutions  on  a  state  of  nature  marked 
by  an  unendurable  struggle  for  existence,  which  was 
ended  by  an  agreement  to  forego  certain  rights  and  to 
transfer  all  other  rights.    In  this  way  was  formed  a 


THE  NATION  IN  THEORY  AND  EACT  197 


collective  will,  expressing  itself  in  Leviathan — the 
mortal  god — a  person  authorized  in  all  its  actions  by  a 
certain  number  of  men,  in  virtue  of  a  reciprocal  agree- 
ment to  use  at  its  choice  the  power  of  all  to  assure 
peace  and  the  common  defense.  Now  the  transfer 
of  a  right  means  non-resistance,  so  that  the  state 
has  all  primitive  and  absolute  power.  Locke  accepted 
the  state  of  nature  and  the  contract  theory;  but  with 
modifications.  The  former  of  the  two  might  be  but 
was  not  necessarily  a  state  of  conflict.  On  the  con- 
trary man  in  a  state  of  nature  might  enjoy  peace  if 
he  only  lived  according  to  right  reason  and  granted 
to  others  the  enjoyment  of  the  natural  rights  pos- 
sessed by  each,  himself  among  the  number.  Political 
society  exists  only  when  free  and  equal  men  give  up 
the  natural  right  they  have  to  punish  those  who  do 
them  wrong.  This  one  right  of  vengeance  is  the  only 
one  inherited  by  the  nation ;  not  all  rights,  as  Hobbes 
declared,  and  for  the  exercise  of  this  right  they 
form  an  agreement  with  a  sovereign  who  is  bound  to 
protect  them  in  the  enjoyment  of  all  the  rest.  In  a 
sense,  therefore,  both  Hobbes  and  Locke  describe  a 
compact  between  governor  and  governed.  But  Rous- 
seau confined  the  contract  to  the  people  themselves. 
They  are  supposed  to  have  met  and  each  individually 
for  himself  to  have  "in  common  put  his  person  and 
his  power  under  the  supreme  direction  of  the  com- 
mon will."  "Thus,"  he  says,  "is  produced  a  moral, 
collective,  body  which  derives  from  this  act  its  unity, 
its  common  personality,  its  life,  its  will."  Jefiferson 
was  thinking  of  this  when  he  wrote  in  the  Declaration 
of  Independence:  "Government  derives  its  just 
powers  from  the  consent  of  the  governed." 

Rousseau's  form  of  the  contract  theory  has  been 
called  the  Bible  of  the  Erench  Revolution,  just  as 
Locke's  form  was  the  guide  and  justification  of  both 
the  English  and  American  revolutions.    In  spite  of 


198    THE  NATION  IN  THEORY  AND  FACT 


the  great  work  done  by  the  contract  theory,  it  is  never- 
theless utterly  discredited  in  our  day,  almost  as  much 
as  Hobbesism.  Men  never  met  on  a  vast  plain  to  make 
a  contract  for  the  establishment  of  a  nation;  his- 
torically the  notion  has  not  even  a  slight  basis.  Con- 
tract, moreover,  never  produces  public  law,  it  only 
creates  a  private  obligation.  The  nation  is  not  sub- 
sequent to,  but  precedes  the  citizen :  no  man  was  ever 
born  into  the  world  except  under  some  form  of  human 
association,  however  primitive.  Nor  is  the  state 
dependent  on  the  individual  choice  of  its  citizens; 
in  certain  numbers,  individual  citizens,  by  united 
action,  assume  a  right  dimly  recognized  but  never 
fixed ;  assert  the  right  of  resistance ;  but  in  organizing 
for  that  purpose  they  act  as  citizens.  There  is,  more- 
over, no  progress  without  government:  civilization 
such  as  this  theory  presupposes,  is  impossible  without 
a  previous  political  organization.  Worst  of  all,  con- 
tract loses  its  force  when  the  parties  to  the  covenant 
cease  to  exist.  Jefferson  himself  admitted  that  con- 
stitutions should  be  sworn  to  by  all  the  people  about 
once  in  every  nineteen  years,  so  as,  from  time  to  time, 
to  secure  the  allegiance  of  every  male  adult.  The  life 
of  a  state  then  is  shorter  than  the  life  of  a  horse, 
sneered  his  opponents. 

Probably  the  simplest  and  most  attractive  of  all 
the  secular  theories  is  that  which  derives  the  powers 
of  government  from  the  family  and  makes  the  rela- 
tion between  the  sovereign  and  the  people  identical 
with  that  between  father  and  children.  But  history 
knows  no  time  when  there  was  not  an  authority  dif- 
ferent from  that  of  the  family  and  above  it.  Even 
the  tribal  relation  was  not  the  family  relation;  even 
that,  such  as  it  was,  had  at  the  dawn  of  history  been 
already  converted  into  that  of  the  city-state,  race 
being  already  subordinate  to  the  nation.  In  all 
civilized  countries,  the  nation  is,  in  earliest  historic 


THE  NATION  IN  THEORY  AND  FACT  199 


times,  above  the  family.  The  father  may  govern 
his  own  child  by  reason  of  his  paternity:  how  can  he 
govern  the  child  of  another,  even  that  of  his  own  son, 
by  reason  of  the  same  relation  ?  Moreover,  the  lesson 
of  history  is  that  wherever  nations  have  adhered  most 
closely  to  this  ideal  of  paternal  government,  there  has 
been  the  lowest  organization,  the  least  political  power. 
It  is  clear  that  the  character  of  family  rights  is  radi- 
cally different  from  that  of  political  rights. 

According  to  each  of  these  theories  of  the  genesis 
and  nature  of  the  nation,  men  have  attempted  to 
answer  the  question :  What  is  the  nation  ?  The  an- 
swers are  even  more  various  than  the  theories,  be- 
cause they  correspond  sometimes  only  to  one,  but  are 
more  frequently  eclectic,  taking  elements  from  two  or 
more.  As  we  saw  but  a  few  pages  backward,  identity 
of  conclusion  may  result  from  widely  different  prem- 
ises, from  the  most  opposite  standpoints,  and  an- 
tagonistic methods.  The  nation,  according  to  the 
physical  evolutionists,  is  an  organization  to  suppress 
crime;  government  is  an  immoral  incident  subsequent 
to  the  state,  and  will  cease  to  exist  when  crime  ceases. 
National  union  therefore  as  expressed  by  the  state  is  an 
external  phenomenon  of  society,  variable  according 
to  circumstances  and  according  to  the  demands 
made  by  the  "universal  aim  of  advancing  the  private 
ends  of  the  individual. ' ' 

This  is  not  very  different  from  the  police  theory, 
which  sees  in  the  nation  a  jural  society.  "Man  born 
in  a  family  is  compelled  to  maintain  society  from 
necessity,  from  natural  inclination,  and  from  habit. 
The  same  creature  in  his  further  progress  is  engaged 
to  establish  political  society  in  order  to  administer 
justice  without  which  there  can  be  no  peace  among 
them,  nor  safety  nor  mutual  intercourse.  We  are 
therefore  to  look  upon  all  the  vast  apparatus  of  our 
government  as  having  ultimately  no  other  object  or 


200    THE  NATION  IN  THEORY  AND  FACT 


purpose  than  the  distribution  of  justice,  or  in  other 
words  the  support  of  the  twelve  judges.  Kings  and 
parHaments,  fleets  and  armies,  ofificers  of  the  court 
and  revenue,  ambassadors,  ministers  and  privy 
councillors  are  all  subordinate  in  the  end  to  this  part 
of  administration.  Even  the  clergy,  as  their  duty 
leads  them  to  inculcate  morality,  may  justly  be 
thought  as  far  as  regards  this  world  to  have  no  other 
useful  object  of  their  institution."  No  statement  of 
the  theory  could  be  stronger  than  this  oft-quoted 
passage  from  Hume's  Origin  of  Government. 

There  is  still  another  answer  to  the  question :  What 
is  the  nation?  It  is  an  answer  which  reduces  the 
noble  fabric  of  society  to  the  lowest  depth  of  degra- 
dation, to  what  Mulford  calls  "a.  field  of  individual 
ambition  for  the  gratification  of  selfish  interests  and 
private  ends. ' '  It  regards  the  nation  as  an  economic 
society.  The  unity  of  the  nation  lies  in  its  material 
prosperity,  its  political  economy.  It  is  a  trading  con- 
cern with  no  other  end  in  view  than  the  success  of 
its  citizens,  who  are  the  partners. 

These  purely  utilitarian  or  if  we  must  use  a  euphe- 
mism, benevolent,  theories  and  definitions,  are  not  in 
our  time  very  strongly  upheld.  They  are  neverthe- 
less extremely  influential,  being  the  real  ground  of 
action  in  public  affairs  for  the  majority  of  men. 

The  later  text-writers  on  the  nature  and  origin  of 
the  nation  take,  however,  a  view  quite  different  from 
any  of  those  we  have  stated.  Among  them,  Mul- 
ford in  his  exhaustive  treatise  gives  a  typical  and 
comprehensive  definition  in  these  words:  "The  nation, 
having  its  foundation  laid  in  the  nature  of  man,  is  a 
relationship,  a  continuity,  and  an  organism ;  conscious, 
moral,  and  personal."  This  view  is  not  to  be  con- 
founded with  that  of  Draper  in  his  Civil  Polity. 
He  stoutly  maintains  that  the  nation  is  an  organism: 
but,  like  the  school  of  medical  historians  to  which  he 


THE  NATION  IN  THEORY  AND  FACT  201 


belongs,  he  bases  his  reasoning  and  his  generalizations 
on  an  imaginary  analogy  between  society  and  the 
individuals  who  compose  it.  Like  them  its  organiza- 
tion, he  thinks,  is  physical;  in  the  nature  of  things 
it  must  begin,  advance  through  various  ages,  and  die 
in  order  to  make  room  for  its  successors.  But  the 
statement  of  the  organic  theory  in  its  entirety  is  not 
content  with  physical  organization  alone.  "The 
end  of  the  state,"  says  Aristotle,  "is  not  merely  to  live, 
but  to  live  nobly."  "The  state  is  no  mechanism," 
concludes  Hegel,  "  but  the  rational  life  of  self-conscious 
freedom,  the  order  of  the  moral  world."  Milton 
thought  that  a  nation  should  be  "but  as  one  huge 
Christian  personage,  one  mighty  growth  or  stature  of 
an  honest  man  as  big  and  compact  in  virtue  as  in 
body."  Burke  declares  the  state  should  be  looked 
on  with  reverence  as  a  partnership  in  all  science,  in 
all  art,  in  every  virtue,  and  in  all  perfection.  And 
Shakespeare  sang: 

"  There  is  a  mystery  in  the  soul  of  state 
Which  hath  an  operation  more  divine 
Than  breath  or  pen  can  give  expression  to." 

Aristotle  laid  down  as  an  axiom  that  man  without 
the  state  was  not  man.  The  Latin  saw  has  it:  "  Unus, 
homo  nullus  homo."  Mirabeau  declared  that  man  was 
not  man,  i.  e.,  a  reflective  being,  capable  of  virtue,  un- 
til he  commenced  to  organize.  Cicero  says  the  cause 
of  men  gathering  into  political  bodies  is  "quam 
naturalis  qucedam  hominum  quasi  congregatio."  "The 
state,"  says  Bluntschli,  "is  a  necessary  good,  the 
fulfilment  of  universal  order,  an  organization  for 
the  perfection  of  all  social  order,  of  social  life  in  all 
public  things." 

The  great  difficulty  with  all  these  attempts  to  de- 
scribe the  natural  history  of  the  nation,  unless  we 
except  the  last,  is  that  they  are  based  on  an  his- 


202    THE  NATION  IN  THEORY  AND  FACT 


torical  assumption  incapable  of  proof,  or  else  on  an 
untenable  theory,  illogical  in  one  or  all  of  its  parts. 
Until  within  very  recent  times  historical  knowledge 
outside  of  certain  short  periods  and  certain  limited 
portions  of  the  earth's  surface,  was  scant  indeed. 
But  within  about  two  generations  the  spade  has 
revealed  storehouses  of  knowledge  not  yet  exhausted, 
with  regard  to  the  earliest  civilizations:  the  de- 
cipherment of  Egyptian  hieroglyphs  and  Babylonian 
cuneiforms  has  given  us  the  story  of  those  peoples: 
the  comparative  study  of  languages  has  revealed 
the  mysteries  of  India,  Persia,  and  the  dispersion  of 
the  Aryans  in  prehistoric  times:  the  opening  of  Japan 
and  China,  with  the  comparative  study]of  institutions, 
has  let  in  the  light  upon  their  exclusiveness:  and  in- 
telligent travel  has  collected  a  great  mass  of  material 
which  the  archaeologist,  the  folk-lorist,  and  the  student 
of  comparative  religion  have  used  to  such  advantage 
that  we  seem  finally  able  to  outline  the  genesis  and 
development  of  human  society  on  something  approxi- 
mating an  historical  basis,  in  a  fairly  continuous  story. 

We  no  longer  doubt  that  the  earliest  form  of  society 
was  the  family ;  not  necessarily  of  course  the  monog- 
amous family,  as  we  know  it;  but  some  form  of 
relation  between  man,  woman,  child,  and  property. 
It  really  makes  no  difference  whether  we  believe  the 
monogamous  family  to  be  the  most  precious  conquest 
of  civilization,  evolved  from  consanguine,  punaluan, 
polyandric,  and  polygamous  forms:  or  whether  we 
hold  all  these  to  be  degradations  of  the  most  primitive 
institution  given  to  man  by  his  Creator;  the  fact  re- 
mains that  in  our  earliest  authentic  records,  monu- 
ments, literature,  institutions,  we  have  proof  that  men 
were  living  in  groups,  based  more  or  less  directly  upon 
blood-relationship  and  upon  community  of  goods. 
This  relationship  was  traced  to  a  single  source,  male 
or  female,  in  which  was  a  mastery  more  or  less  com- 


THE  NATION  IN  THEORY  AND  FACT  203 


plete  over  all  persons  and  property,  and  the  basis  of 
authority  was  partly  in  a  community  of  worship, 
partly  in  the  fact  of  natural  generation.  In  some 
races  we  can  go  back  to  polyandry  as  a  system. 
Directly  from  that  have  sprung  no  institutions  except 
such  as  tend  to  promiscuity  and  savagery,  traces 
of  mother-right  in  the  Brehon  laws  being  the  most 
familiar.  In  Jewish  history  we  go  back  to  polygamy, 
a  form  of  family  in  which  female  chastity  was  estab- 
lished, so  that  descent  was  traceable  through  the  male. 
In  the  earliest  societies  of  the  Aryans  we  find  the  mo- 
nogamous family  firmly  established,  although  it  is 
claimed  that  the  larger  tribal  associations  bear  traces 
of  having  been  developed  from  more  or  less  promiscu- 
ous relations  such  as  those  prevalent  among  savages 
in  their  irregular  tribes.  This,  if  true,  was  probably 
due  to  the  general  depravity  which  has  not  yet  dis- 
appeared from  even  the  highest  civilizations. 

It  has  been  too  much  taken  for  granted  that  the 
monogamous  family  grew  into  a  clan  by  the  mere 
process  of  increase  in  the  number  of  kindred.  When 
the  father  dies  he  is  succeeded  by  the  oldest  male  and 
so  on  until  in  course  of  time  the  generations  have  so 
multiplied  that  even  the  clan,  gens  or  veW  is  so  large 
that  it  is  split  by  its  own  weight;  new  clans  are 
formed,  and  these,  remembering  their  common  origin, 
reunite  into  tribes.  As  these  become  numerous  and 
civilization  becomes  more  complex,  these  tribes  re- 
call or  invent  a  hero-eponymous  and  join  under  an 
elective  king  of  that  hero's  supposed  line;  provided 
always  that  there  be  a  male  with  qualities  which 
fit  him  to  rule.  But  in  the  institutions  of  all  peoples 
whatsoever  there  lurk  traces  of  primitive  savagery 
in  some  form,  like  mother-right  or  totem-kinship; 
in  some,  two  systems  of  descent  determine  two  forms 
of  succession  in  property,  and  these  have  flourished 
side  by  side  within  historic  times.    There  are  customs 


204   THE  NATION  IN  THEORY  AND  FACT 


still  prevalent  in  civilized  society  which  are  so  reminis- 
cent of  savagery  that  all  nations  are  supposed  by  many 
to  have  passed  through  savage  stages.  Such  are 
bride-stealing,  which  was  once  well-nigh  universal, 
the  still  common  shamefaced  mystery  among  the 
vulgar  about  marriage,  an  English  custom  still 
prevalent  in  certain  localities  which  forbids  the 
parents  of  either  bride  or  bridegroom  to  be  present 
at  the  wedding  ceremony.  The  explanation  of  all 
these  seems  to  be  found  in  the  prevalence  of  local 
family  worship  in  primitive  times  and  the  subordina- 
tion of  natural  generation  to  common  religion  as  a 
bond  of  family  union. 

The  next  step  in  human  association  seems  to  have 
been  in  the  form  of  federation.  The  monarchies  of 
China,  of  the  early  Egyptians,  and  the  Chaldseans 
were  simply  swollen  families;  the  monarch  being 
father  and  priest.  In  them  civilization  made  little 
progress  on  its  political  side.  They  were  interesting 
survivals  like  the  joint-families  of  Ceylon,  which  are 
to-day  much  what  the  English  manor  once  was  or 
the  Greco-Roman  gens.  But  the  city-state  of  Greece 
and  Rome  was  a  federation  of  tribes  under  a  common 
ruler  and  with  a  common  worship.  At  first  kinship 
played  a  most  important  role;  but,  with  the  advance 
of  philosophy,  locality  became  of  greater  importance; 
since  neighbors  found  their  interests  more  closely  con- 
nected than  relations  who  were  not  neighbors.  Very 
early  in  history  the  demes  were  established  by  local 
boundaries  instead  of  the  hitherto  prevalent  lines  of 
separation  by  kinship.  This  relation  of  men  to  the 
soil  they  occupied  was  only  possible  when  they  had 
finally  abandoned  their  nomadic  habits  and,  once 
domiciled,  recognized  that  the  friend  near  at  hand  was 
better  than  the  brother  afar  off.  Within  the  same 
tribe  could  be  many  stocks  claiming  different  an- 
cestry ;  the  old  gentile  ties  were  loosened  and  the  true 


THE  NATION  IN  THEORY  AND  FACT  205 


distinction  between  cognate  and  agnate  was  long 
forgotten;  to  be  rediscovered  only  in  our  own  time. 
The  strong  ties  of  a  true  family  were  gradually  de- 
stroyed and  regard  for  remoter  kinship  was  totally 
lost. 

We  have  already  examined  the  development  of  the 
city-state  into  the  world  state,  the  influence  which 
Christianity  as  a  world  religion  had  in  creating  a  de- 
sire for  an  all-comprehensive  earthly  Civitas  corres- 
ponding to  the  Civitas  Dei.  We  have  also  outlined 
the  formation  through  feudalism  with  its  patriarchal 
social  quality,  dependent  on  land  and  military  service 
for  its  existence,  of  a  system  of  modern  states  with 
many  characteristics  in  common.  They  all  had  un- 
written constitutions  virtually  identical  in  origin  and 
quality;  three  orders  of  society;  sacred  territorial 
boundaries  determined  not  by  nature  but  by  feudal 
claims  and  therefore  artificial;  they  respected  each 
other's  independence;  had  identical  government  forms; 
recognized  that  curious  survival,  the  Holy  Roman 
Empire,  as  a  bond  of  union;  held  themselves  subject 
to  an  inchoate  international  law;  and  enjoyed  a 
community  of  social  movement.  The  change  was 
regular  and  continuous  which  produced  this  state  of 
things — the  great  single  fact  of  modern  history.  It 
was  confirmed  in  the  rise  and  growth  of  absolutism; 
which  welded  communities  together  under  a  dynasty, 
a  common  interest,  a  common  system  of  law,  and  a 
common  sovereignty,  for  long  also  a  common  religion. 
To  absolutism  has  succeeded  either  constitutional 
monarchy,  or,  where  the  people  were  sufficiently  en- 
lightened, democracy.  Thus  was  formed  the  modern 
nation.  What  is  it?  is  it  merely  transitional,  intro- 
ductory to  a  new  state  of  society  ? 


V 


THE  MODERN  NATION 

LIBERTY,  THE  MAN,  AND  THE  COMMUNITY — THE  IDEAL  COMMUNITY 
DIRECTIVE,  NOT  COERCIVE — RELATION  OF  MAN  AND  HIS  SURROUND- 
INGS CLASSES  IN  THE  NATION — AMELIORATION   BY  PRIVATE  MEANS 

AND  PUBLIC  EFFORT — DANGERS  OF  POLITICAL  CALVINISM  AND  THE 
JURAL  STATE — THE  MEANING  OF  INDIVIDUALITY — MEANINGS  OF  THE 
PHRASE  "natural  RIGHTS" — LEGAL,  MORAL,  AND  NATURAL  RIGHTS — 
THE  SOCIAL  CONSCIENCE:  THE  NATION  AN  ORGANISM — ITS  DUTY  TO 
ENLARGE  PERSONAL,  AND  DIMINISH  SOCIAL,  RIGHTS — LIMITATIONS 
ON  COERCIVE  RIGHTS  OF  THE  NATION — INTERNATIONAL  RIGHTS,  CO- 
ERCIVE AND  DIRECTIVE. 

It  appears  then  that  through  both  the  lines  we  have 
been  considering  we  can  trace  a  fact  or  series  of 
facts  and  a  corresponding  intention :  that  all  the  strug- 
gles and  convulsions,  that  the  intervals  of  peaceful 
development  in  history,  have  been  absorbed  with  the 
problem  of  how  to  advance  the  cause  of  personal 
liberty.  The  intention  underlay  the  facts:  to  de- 
stroy every  form  of  human  association  which  stood 
in  the  way;  and  uproot  whatever  beliefs  these  forms 
were  founded  on.  If  it  be  true  that  a  purpose  has 
been  running  through  the  historical  ages,  that  pur- 
pose has  been  to  establish  the  individual  man  as  the 
ultimate  fact,  to  secure  for  him  the  fullest  liberty  to 
act  according  to  his  personal  belief,  to  enjoy  what- 
ever makes  him  most  complete  in  his  entity,  to  exer- 
cise his  powers  to  the  greatest  advantage,  to  discuss 
whatever  gives  him  the  clearest  view  of  his  duties. 
Incidents  may  hamper  him  and  be  of  little  moment, 
because  he  can,  single  and  alone,  overcome  obstacles 
proportionate  to  his  personal  will  and  strength. 
Whatever  hindrances  require  organization  for  their 
overthrow  will  surely  be  attacked  by  an  association; 
permanent,  durable,  and  large  enough  for  its  purposes. 

206 


THE  MODERN  NATION 


If  in  the  process  of  emancipating  the  man  from 
the  thraldom  of  communism  the  nature  of  man  had 
been  completely  regenerated,  the  problem  of  political 
science  would  solve  itself.  Were  the  perfect  law  of 
love  habitually  observed  by  every  human  being 
there  could  be  no  question  of  rights,  for  there  would 
be  no  repression,  except  by  himself,  of  any  man's 
desires;  no  regulation  of  one  man's  conduct  for  the 
sake  of  another  man's  existence  or  well-being.  We 
would  have  no  police,  no  courts,  no  armies,  or  fleets; 
the  customs  officer,  and  the  tax-gatherer  would  be 
friends;  there  would  be  none  of  the  paraphernalia  of 
government,  now  so  abundant,  to  restrain  the  vicious 
and  selfish,  even  those  who  unwittingly  perform  acts 
hurtful  to  others;  for  the  simple  reason  that  such 
classes  would  be  non-existent.  There  would  remain 
nothing  but  the  necessity  of  common  action  for  the 
common  good ;  a  very  small  sphere  of  public  activity 
when  once  perfect  institutions  had  been  set  agoing. 
There  would  be  for  this  end  a  corporate  sovereignty, 
since  solitary  man  is  so  helpless;  and  since  the  condi- 
tions essential  to  even  the  lowest  form  of  living  can 
only  be  secured  by  joint  action.  The  sphere  of 
government  would  be  confined  to  what  Suarez  calls 
the  directive  powers  of  government:  the  coercive 
powers  would  never  be  called  into  action.  If  this 
be  true  of  the  conditions  essential  to  the  lowest  form 
of  living,  how  much  truer  would  it  be  of  those  which 
enable  man  to  live  nobly,  and  a  fortiori  of  those 
essential  to  perfect  living. 

But  of  course  we  are  not  dealing  with  the  possibility 
of  human  perfectibility  this  side  the  grave ;  nor  with  a 
millennial  age  such  as  at  the  opening  of  the  twentieth 
century  many  idealists  fondly  believed  was  already 
well  inaugurated.  Nor  can  we  here  discuss  the  mean- 
ing and  nature  of  progress,  assuming  only  that  it  is 
a  change  from  simplicity  to  complexity  [not  com- 


2o8  THE  MODERN  NATION 


plication]  for  the  purpose  of  development,  of  adapting 
men  to  their  surroundings,  and  their  surroundings  to 
men;  and  thus  of  attaining  ideal  ends  in  the  relation 
of  men  to  each  other,  to  God,  and  to  nature.  We  do 
not,  simply  because  in  looking  abroad  on  the  world 
we  see  so  much  misery  and  wickedness,  admit  that 
there  is  a  steady  degeneration  of  things  animate  and 
inanimate  from  what  they  were  in  a  golden  age  which 
will  never  return.  This  is  not  the  worst  possible 
world  nor  the  best  possible  world;  it  is  a  world 
growing  better,  characterized  in  all  directions  by  meli- 
oration. We  should  see  it  as  it  is.  The  fittest  indi- 
viduals have  been  emancipated  from  the  bondage  of 
communistic  life,  from  awe  and  terror  in  the  presence 
of  natural  force,  and  from  the  horrors  of  dark  supersti- 
tion. A  wide-spread  comfort  and  contentment  have 
been  already  attained,  and  to  a  still  greater  extent  the 
practice  of  commonplace  virtue  and  ordinary  thrift 
put  both  within  reach  of  millions  and  millions.  There 
is  unfortunately  a  small  area  of  life  within  which  in- 
capacity or  impracticability,  joined  to  good  or  even 
the  best  intentions,  seems  to  thwart  all  success^  There 
is  also  a  still  smaller  sphere  within  which  bad  men 
abandon  themselves  to  shameful  living  and  thus 
create  a  social  class  which  endangers  the  well-being 
of  themselves  and  others. 

In  a  sense  these  social  classes  represent  correspond- 
ing degrees  of  morality.  Among  a  substantial  num- 
ber of  the  best  men  and  women  we  find  a  quickened 
conscience,  intense  earnestness,  high  principle,  the 
power  and  practice  of  self-denial;  and  accompanying 
these  to  the  highest  degree,  pity  for  those  who  are  not 
as  they  are.  Next  after  these  we  may  place  the  great 
majority  of  really  civilized  people,  the  common  folk, 
persons  with  limited  but  wholesome  intelligence, 
eminently  practical  too,  since  their  chief  concerns 
are  a  competence  for  this  life  and  security  for  their 


THE  MODERN  NATION  209 


immortal  souls,  disposed  to  accept  well-tried  beliefs 
and  moral  axioms  on  authority,  indisposed  to  dis- 
turbing thoughts  and  to  change,  with  sound  instincts 
and  a  vigorous  will — the  historic  class.  Associated 
with  them  is  a  class,  almost  equally  large,  who  from 
ignorance  and  interest  have  substituted  legality  for 
morality,  in  whom  a  soul-habit  established  by  heredity 
and  environment  has  supplanted  conscience,  and 
among  whom  shame  is  almost  the  last  basis  upon 
which  an  appeal  for  righteousness  can  be  made.  Fin- 
ally there  are  the  selfish,  indolent,  and  vicious, 
diseased  in  soul  and  body,  who  in  every  community 
are  in  reality  comparatively  few,  but  who  for  the  very 
reason  of  their  exceptional  character  attract  wide- 
spread attention. 

These  are  the  real  social  classes  of  the  United 
States:  with  the  destruction  of  feudal  privilege  in 
Europe  and  the  increasing  influence  of  liberal  ideas 
throughout  the  world  similar  divisions  have  become 
more  and  more  evident  everywhere.  We  talk  much 
of  rich  and  poor,  of  capital  and  labor,  of  educated  and 
ignorant,  and  of  similar  social  divisions  as  if  they 
were  permanent,  constant,  and  absolute.  In  reality 
there  is  only  a  very  small  modicum  of  truth  in  the 
assumption.  Constant  fluidity  is  the  characteristic 
of  the  modern  world,  careers  are  open  to  all  the  talents, 
the  individual  who  fixes  himself  in  any  one  of  tUese 
divisions  is  a  self-made  and  self-fixed  man,  the  excep- 
tion rather  than  the  rule.  It  is  not  true  that  the  rich 
are  growing  richer,  the  poor  poorer.  There  is  neither 
as  much  disease  nor  poverty  nor  vice  in  the  world  to- 
day as  there  once  was:  there  is  a  higher  regard  for 
life,  property,  and  personal  worth  than  there  once 
was;  and  good  men  are  vastly  more  sensitive  to  evil 
than  they  ever  were  before,  vastly  more  energetic 
in  remedying  it  than  their  ancestors.  The  whole 
attitude  of  the  rich,  the  powerful,  and  the  intelligent, 


210  THE  MODERN  NATION 


while  they  remain  such,  is  no  longer  one  of  haughty 
contempt,  but  on  the  contrary  it  is  one  of  interest 
and  pity. 

Such  are  the  persons  with  which  present-day  forms 
of  human  association  are  concerned.  There  are  sur- 
vivals of  every  pre-existent  human  quality:  pride  of 
birth,  place,  wealth;  intense  respect  for  kinship  and 
local  advantage;  passionate  longing  for  the  imagined 
charms  of  ancient,  mediaeval,  and  absolutist  society; 
the  weakness  of  selfishness  and  sin.  Against  all  these, 
however,  the  conflict  is  declared  and  there  is  no  ques- 
tion as  to  which  side  unfurls  the  banner  of  right  and 
justice.  Considering  men  as  they  are,  therefore,  it  is 
clear  that  their  organization  can  include  only  that 
which  is  essential  to  their  common  interest  as  indi- 
viduals. The  less  regulative  force  the  nation  exerts, 
the  freer  the  play  of  personal  initiative.  Bad  men 
with  debased  natures  are  still  with  us;  these  in  an 
environment  of  high  type,  leaving  unrestrained  the 
natures  of  noble  instinct,  have  greater  opportunity 
for  harm;  when,  however,  they  reach  the  barriers 
that  are  set  up,  their  condemnation  is  more  complete 
and  their  suffering,  for  suffer  they  must,  is  more  bitter. 
There  is  no  remedy  for  this  except  the  efforts  of  the 
good  to  reform  them  by  moral  means  before  the  stage 
of  transgressing  the  law  is  reached.  Political  Calvin- 
ism tends  toward  the  jural  state,  and  if  the  nation 
were  merely  a  jural  society,  it  would,  as  the  American 
nation  tends  to  do,  extend  its  law-making  to  the 
pettiest  offenses,  its  police  functions  to  the  extremest 
limit,  and  force  men  to  be  good  rather  than  invite 
them  to  it.  Already  we  have  gone  too  far  along  this 
road;  the  climax  of  a  jural  nation  with  police  govern- 
ment was  reached  in  the  German  Empire  under  the 
Calvinistic  Hohenzollerns.  The  essence  of  morality 
being  spontaneity,  the  jural  relation  in  the  units  of 
a  nation  would,  as  it  has  already  done,  make  fear  the 


THE  MODERN  NATION  211 


only  motive  of  action  and  destroy  the  finest  of  ail 
human  quaUties,  self-respect. 

An  organized  society  working  in  this  single  direc- 
tion would  therefore  trespass  unduly  upon  the  sphere 
of  the  individual,  render  its  members  less  fit  for  their 
functions  and  so  in  the  end,  first  degrade,  then  de- 
stroy itself.  The  mention  of  the  word  "organized" 
seems  to  call  up  the  antinomy  or  supposed  antago- 
nism between  the  individual  and  the  nation.  This  is 
due  to  a  prevalent  prejudice  of  which  we  divest  our- 
selves with  difficulty:  the  utterly  distorted  idea  that 
individual  and  isolated  are  synonymous.  No  in- 
dividual is  ever  isolated,  never  was,  and  never  can  be. 
Suppose  the  possibility.  If  on  the  one  hand  two  or 
more  should  then  enter  into  a  permanent  relation  with 
each  other,  in  that  act  and  its  consequences  each  in- 
dividual, though  remaining  the  same  person,  is 
changed,  because  mere  contact  of  mind  or  body  pro- 
duces action  and  reaction.  In  the  sequel  this  be- 
comes stronger  and  stronger  until  the  interchange  of 
relations  completely  absorbs  both  individuals  while 
they  nevertheless  remain  separate  persons.  This 
is  not  necessarily  to  the  detriment  of  individuality: 
indeed,  each  person  is  likely  to  be  more  individual 
than  before,  every  quality  being  not  only  possibly, 
but  almost  certainly,  sharpened  and  intensified. 
The  relation  creates  conditions  and  a  force  which  did 
not  exist  before.  The  elements  of  the  force  are  vital. 
Suppose  every  human  being  to  be  placed  in  a  cell  so 
constructed  as  to  afford  him  a  field  for  all  his  physical 
and  mental  energies,  what  then  ?  Life  is  mere  exist- 
ence, however  complete;  and  a  steady  degeneration 
of  what  is  really  human  sets  in.  Convicts  in  solitary 
confinement  become  with  time  something  less  than 
the  most  degraded  man.  Defoe  with  all  the  magic 
of  his  pen  could  not  delineate  a  real  life  for  his  hero 
without  companionship.    Saintine  in  the  well-known 


212  THE  MODERN  NATION 


tale  of  Picciola  tried  the  same  problem  in  making  his 
prisoner  love  and  care  for  a  flower,  but  the  effort 
resulted  in  unreality.  There  is  no  possible  way  of 
even  conceiving  man  as  man  outside  of  some  form 
of  organized  association.  The  nation  is  not  an 
exceptional  organism;  it  is  a  true  organic  association, 
not  a  mechanical  agglomeration  of  individuals. 

We  have  seen  how  men  appealed  to  justice  and 
right  and  the  common  welfare  as  a  means  of  destroy- 
ing status  and  custom.  Rational  legislation  having 
once  been  secured  by  a  just  intermixture  of  these 
elements,  the  next  step  was  to  appeal  against  all 
authority  on  the  ground  of  "nature."  Our  ancestors 
first  appealed  for  redress  of  their  grievances  to  their 
rights  as  British  subjects;  but  there  is  nothing  of 
this  in  their  final  appeals;  they  took  higher  ground 
and  appealed  to  their  rights  as  men.  Now,  without 
entering  into  any  discussion  of  the  knotty  question 
of  "natural  rights,"  we  must  remember  that  the 
idea  of  natural  law  has  had  several  distinct,  though 
constantly  confused,  meanings.  In  one  it  has  been  the 
basis  for  the  doctrines  taught  by  the  anarchists,  the 
Cynics,  Rousseauists,  and  Marxists,  being  a  revolt 
against  all  the  restraints  of  civilization  and  a  demand 
for  a  return  to  an  imaginary  state  of  nature  in  which 
every  man  did  what  seemed  right  in  his  own  eyes, 
that  is,  good  to  satisfy  his  desires.  In  another  signi- 
fication it  is  substantially  identical  with  the  law  of 
God,  revealed  through  conscience,  the  inner  voice, 
or  the  Bible.  The  Declaration  of  Independence, 
carefully  read,  will  be  found  ambiguous  in  so  far  as 
both  conceptions  suit  its  terms.  The  third  signif- 
icance of  natural  law  is  that  of  modern  biologists,  which 
claims  that  when  "the  phenomena  of  human  society 
come  to  be  brought  under  conceptions  and  studied  by 
methods  similar  to  those  used  in  the  study  of  the 
phenomena  of  vegetable  and  animal  life,  the  notion 


THE  MODERN  NATION  213 


of  causality  is  introduced  into  ethics  and  politics 
and  economics,  which  now  become  branches  of  soci- 
ology." They  appeal,  therefore,  to  the  consensus 
humani  generis,  one  field  of  biological  research:  and 
preferably  to  savages  as  being  nearer  to  primitive  man 
than  civilized  man  is.  They  are  far  astray  be- 
cause savage  man  is  the  one  universally  accepted 
case  of  devolution  known  to  natural  science,  and 
so  they  approach  closely  in  their  distorted  view 
to  that  of  Rousseau.  At  the  most  the  biologists  can 
only  mean  that  the  nation  must  respect  the  instincts 
and  tendencies  of  a  primitive  man  about  whom  we 
make  many  guesses,  but  know  absolutely  nothing. 

A  legal  right  is  easily  understood :  it  is  the  power  we 
have  to  control  others  through  the  force  of  society 
organized  in  the  state.  A  moral  right  is  less  definite: 
it  is  the  power  '"'^e  have  to  control  others  through  public 
opinion;  a  claim  recognized  by  society  though  per- 
haps not  by  law  or  the  state  in  such  a  way  as  to  en- 
able us  to  enforce  it.  Where  all  the  people,  or  vir- 
tually all,  hold  the  same  religious  belief,  a  moral  right 
is  easily  defined  and  therefore  easily  transformed  into 
a  legal  right.  But  in  modern  civilized  nations  there 
is  every  degree  of  belief  and  unbelief  as  there  is  of 
education  and  ignorance.  To  what  shall  we  appeal  ? 
Not  to  nature  as  opposed  to  present  artificiality;  that 
is  to  retrograde,  nor  to  nature  as  the  whole  universe, 
the  oracle  is  dumb;  nor  to  the  ideal,  that  is  not  yet 
attained.  These  three  forms  of  appeal:  to  authority, 
to  nature,  or  to  utility,  all  seem  to  be  impracticable. 
We  ourselves  carefully  guarded  against  any  appeal  to 
authority,  by  setting  bills  of  rights  above  the  govern- 
ment: we  do  not  permit  the  organized  nation  to  de- 
termine what  are  and  what  are  not  our  rights;  in 
religion  and  in  politics  we  virtually  judge  the  validity 
of  authority  by  its  power  to  secure  our  rights.  The 
appeal  to  the  inner  voice  or  higher  law  is  constantly 


214  THE  MODERN  NATION 


made;  i.  e.,  to  nature  in  the  deistic  sense,  to  the  rem- 
nant of  a  primitive  instruction  remaining  in  every 
man's  conscience,  in  every  good  man's  conscience. 
This  comes  very  close,  indeed,  to  the  utilitarian  doc- 
trine that  reason  and  experience  must  be  our  guide. 
The  earlier  writers  like  Bentham  thought  that  the 
reason  and  experience  of  the  individual  must  be  the 
guide;  the  present-day  physical  scientists  substitute 
an  evolutionary  utilitarianism  as  the  measure  of 
obligation  and  there  is  more  or  less  a  stampede  to 
follow  them,  to  say  that  the  measure  of  oughtness 
is  found  entirely  in  the  view  of  society. 

Organized  society  alone  can  determine  the  moral 
obligation  of  the  individual;  but  not  necessarily 
society  as  it  is,  rather  an  ideal  society,  finding  by  the 
measure  or  criterion  of  an  Utopia  the  worth  of  ideas 
formed  in  society  as  we  have  it.  This  consensus  of 
several  later  writers  seems  to  me,  aside  from  its  in- 
tent, very  difficult  to  grasp  accurately.  Clarity  is 
not  its  distinguishing  feature:  it  is  not  plain  what  a 
social  conscience  is;  even  when  consulting  the  oracle 
of  an  Utopia.  As  matters  stand  and  are  likely  to  stand 
every  right,  legal,  or  moral,  is  in  the  last  analysis 
based  on  the  personality  of  the  modern  citizen.  It  is 
useless  to  discuss  whether  the  nation  or  the  individual 
is  antecedent:  we  have  never  known  men  except  in 
association  with  others,  we  have  observed  them  se- 
curing a  greater  and  greater  degree  of  personality, 
and  with  it  a  clearer  and  clearer  conception  of  duty, 
justice,  and  truth;  which  are  eternal  ideas.  We  may 
well  suppose  that  the  personality  thus  evolved  will 
continue  to  have  a  relation  to  organized  society 
which  we  may  designate  as  his  right  and  we  may  feel 
sure  that  the  appeal  will  be  to  what  is  socially  useful 
now  and  likely  to  be  hereafter  in  that  better  society, 
which  we  may  infer  from  our  experience  of  the  past. 
We  may  hope,  moreover,  that  as  society  has  steadily 


THE  MODERN  NATION  215 

emancipated  the  individual  heretofore  it  will  continue 
to  afford  him  an  ever-increasing  sphere  for  the  exer- 
cise of  the  virtues  which  he  may  have  in  the  future. 
There  is,  therefore,  no  question  of  precedence  in  the 
matter  of  rights  and  society;  but  a  parallel  develop- 
ment of  the  organism  and  its  members  for  the  com- 
pleter activity  of  both.  What  the  Bible  reveals  to 
us  is  the  story  of  grace.  The  question  of  personality 
in  the  theological  and  metaphysical  sense,  that  is  the 
relations  of  God,  nature,  and  man,  belongs  to  the 
sphere  of  these  two  disciplines:  the  person  and  the 
nation  have  a  relation,  which  is  historical  and  theoreti- 
cal both ;  but  theoretical  only  as  regards  the  concepts 
of  duty,  truth,  and  justice. 

This  brings  us  to  the  second  conception  of  the  na- 
tion; that  it  is  not  only  an  organism  and  a  continuous 
one,  but  that  it  is  moral  in  the  sense  of  enlarging  the 
rights  of  the  individual  as  against  itself,  its  own  direc- 
tive rights;  and  diminishing  its  own  rights  as  coercive 
of  the  individual.  Now  just  as  we  need  constantly 
to  be  reminded  that  the  nation  is  the  highest  form  of 
human  association,  that  as  such  it  has  a  power  and  a 
quality  above  the  individual,  yet  we  also  need  to  re- 
member that  it  is  composed  of  fallible  men  and 
women.  These  will  necessarily  have  among  them  two 
elements;  those  who  condemn  existing  institutions 
in  order  that  they  may  strive  to  throw  order  into  chaos 
by  evil  doing,  and  gratify  their  own  lusts;  and  those 
who  by  condemning  existing  institutions  hope  to  se- 
cure better.  Reformers  are  constantly  classed  as 
criminals;  how  is  the  nation  to  distinguish?  Take 
the  case  of  the  Mormons,  when  they  lived  in  polygamy 
and  claimed  religious  sanction  for  the  practice.  The 
theory  of  the  supreme  court  was  that  congress  could 
not  control  opinion  but  could  control  actions  in  viola- 
tion of  social  duties  and  subversive  of  social  order. 
The  judge  was  to  be  congress  itself  and  the  Edmunds 


2l6 


THE  MODERN  NATION 


act  made  polygamy  a  crime.  This  is  held  by  all 
the  purely  secularizing  politicians  who  prate  about 
religious  liberty  to  have  been  a  direct  violation  of 
that  precious  principle.  They  thought  no  marriage 
should  be  recognized  as  legally  binding  except  a  civil 
marriage;  polygamous  marriages  should  then  have 
been  prohibited,  and  certain  grounds  for  the  divorce 
of  those  already  bound  by  them  should  have  been 
established;  by  female  suffrage  the  escape  of  any 
Mormon  wife  terrorized  by  her  husband  could  then 
have  been  arranged.  To  them  such  a  procedure 
would  not  have  appeared  a  violation  of  religious 
liberty  !  As  a  matter  of  fact,  congress  acted  on  what 
is  the  general  consent  of  Christendom  in  modern 
times.  In  so  doing  it  strictly  interpreted  the  modern 
conception  of  a  nation,  viz.,  that  however  heterogene- 
ous its  population  or  widely  varying  the  beliefs  of  its 
citizens,  a  nation  must  have  and  unite  upon  a  mini- 
mum common  basis  of  religious  belief,  with  an  accom- 
panying morality  which  shall  control  its  conduct. 
There  may  be  two  opinions  as  to  whether  or  not  this 
basis  shall  be  a  rigid  statement  embodied  in  the  fun- 
damental law;  or  a  general  understanding,  fluid  in 
its  nature  like  the  English  constitution.  The  former 
has  the  advantage  of  indicating  the  general  tenor  of 
legislation  without  dispute;  the  latter  has  the  ad- 
vantage of  being  more  comprehensive  and  more  easily 
changed  to  correspond  to  variations  in  personal  con- 
viction. From  this  point  of  view  the  nation  is  a 
moral  organism  in  its  coercive  relation  to  its  own 
citizens,  almost  as  one  citizen  is  to  another  as  a  sub- 
ject of  law. 

Furthermore,  the  nation  being  a  continuous  moral 
organism  with  maximum  duties  as  to  enlarging  its 
directive  sphere  and  minimum  duties  in  the  coercive, 
the  latter  fact  must  correspondingly  diminish  coercive 
functions,  to  the  very  lowest  terms.    The  duty  of  the 


THE  MODERN  NATION  217 


nation  is  to  compel  every  child  to  take  a  certain 
amount  of  education;  yes,  but  the  lowest  compatible 
with  good  citizenship.  The  nation  is  not  a  university 
nor  should  it  sustain  a  sufficient  number  of  universi- 
ties for  every  youth  to  secure  a  free  university  educa- 
tion. Nor  is  the  nation  a  trading  firm.  The  nation 
should  regulate  trade  in  the  interests  of  all,  it  must 
not  control  it  in  the  interests  o'^  a  few.  The  nation  is 
not  a  church :  it  must  in  the  very  nature  of  itself  and 
its  individual  constituents  establish  relations  between 
religious  organizations,  as  indeed  between  associations 
of  all  kinds,  and  itself.  It  must  take  cognizance  of 
religion  as  a  social  fact;  but  it  is  not  concerned  with 
the  subordination  of  the  spiritual  to  the  ecclesiastical 
organization  or  vice  versa.  The  relations  it  knows 
are  not  those  of  church  and  state,  but  of  government 
and  religion.  In  like  manner  the  state  is  not  a  law- 
court,  though  as  part  of  its  functions  it  must  sustain 
both  law  and  the  officers  of  the  law,  coercing  these, 
however,  through  processes  of  equity,  so  that  the 
rigidity  of  the  law  may  not  retard  the  development 
and  movement  of  society. 

Finally,  it  is  very  doubtful  whether  there  can  be 
such  a  thing  as  a  single  nation.  We  might  conceive 
of  a  federation  of  nations  into  a  world  state ;  but  even 
then,  if  the  sphere  of  federal  union  be  extended  so  as 
seriously  to  limit  national  sovereignty,  there  arises  a 
federal  state  whose  members  steadily  turn  into  mere 
administrative  districts  and  lose  all  semblance  of  na- 
tionality, as  the  States  of  the  American  union  have 
done.  Just  as  within  each  nation  the  national  life 
depends  on  the  interaction  of  sovereign  and  people, 
of  various  classes,  persons,  and  interests,  to  each 
other,  so  the  very  essence  and  character  of  national 
sovereignty  depends  on  the  relations  of  one  such 
sovereign  to  another.  The  anarchist  always  strives 
to  deliver  his  first  blow  at  the  nation,  even  his  own; 


2i8  THE  MODERN  NATION 


the  "International"  is  a  favorite  name  for  his  activi- 
ties. On  the  other  hand  the  beHever  in  progress  sees 
the  relations  of  states  to  each  other  becoming  closer 
and  closer,  better  and  better  regulated  until  the 
coercive  measures  of  each  to  each  shall  be  merged  into 
one  great  scheme  of  constructive  direction,  having  for 
its  end  the  peace  of  mankind  and  the  furtherance  of 
each  member's  interests  in  just  proportion  to  the  in- 
terests of  all.  The  less  national  legislation  coerces 
and  the  more  it  directs,  the  finer  the  individual  citi- 
zen :  the  more  perfect  the  nation,  the  less  friction  with 
others,  the  less  effort  at  coercion  to  maintain  national 
rights.  The  land  of  the  earth  is  virtually  appor- 
tioned, and  the  jurisdiction  of  the  seas  determined, 
by  the  consensus  of  sovereign  nations.  No  state 
must  be  an  armed  camp  or  a  floating  arsenal  in  order 
to  protect  itself.  The  only  essential  armed  force  is 
that  required  to  restrain  the  disorderly,  whether 
natural  or  national  persons.  Milton's  concept  of  a 
nation  may  approximate  realization:  a  great  per- 
sonality furnishing  every  means  of  advancement  and 
prosperity  to  its  citizens.  The  making  of  men  better 
will  be  easier  just  in  proportion  as  men  make  the  na- 
tion better.  One  without  the  other  is  impossible. 
Men  cannot  be  made  good  by  machinery:  but  the 
machinery  of  government  may  make  the  practice  of 
goodness  easier.  Only  regenerate  men  can  regenerate 
nation,  state,  or  government;  such  a  state  can  only 
assist  in  the  work  of  regeneration,  not  inaugurate  it. 


VI 


THE  ORIENTAL  STATE  AND  NATION 

THE  ANCIENT  EAST  UNCONSCIOUSLY  HISTORICAL — RUDIMENTS  OF  BOTH 
NATION  AND  STATE — ANCIENT  ORIENTAL  MONARCHIES  DEFECTIVE  IN 
POLITICAL  IDEAS — THE  BASIS  OF  AUTHORITY  CONQUEST,  ITS  SANCTION 
THEOCRATIC — THE  COMMON  INTEREST  OF  COMMON  BONDAGE — EQUAL- 
ITY AMONG  subjects:    LIBERTY  UNKNOWN — THE  FORM  AND  EXTENT 

OF  SOVEREIGNTY  CONTRASTS  BETWEEN  FORMS  OF  BONDAGE  DUE  TO 

PHYSICAL  GEOGRAPHY — SELF-INDULGENCE  AND  SELF-IGNORANCE — 
METHODS  OF  DESPOTISM — SOCIETY  ARTIFICIAL  BUT  UNORGANIZED — 
THE  CITY-STATE  OF  THE  ORIENT.  CARTHAGE — THE  COLLECTIVE  WILL 
IN  GREECE  AND  ROME — THE  ROMAN  PROVINCES  AND  ROMAN  EMPIRE — - 
RELATION  OF  STATE  AND  CHURCH  IN  BYZANTIUM — THE  GROWTH  OF 
INDIVIDUALITY. 

A  GREATER  impulse  has  been  given  to  the  study  of 
institutions  and  of  political  science  by  the  great 
flood  of  light  let  in  on  the  Orient  since  the  days  of  Sir 
William  Jones  than  by  any  other  single  cause. 
Through  the  further  investigations  of  men  like  Sir 
Henry  Maine,  Sir  Alfred  Lyall,  and  Sir  John  Strachey, 
we  have  become  aware  of  our  origins  and  gradually 
the  historical  school  in  jurisprudence  and  politics  has 
asserted  itself  as  the  peer  of  the  analytical  theorists 
who  had  hitherto  ruled  public  opinion.  But  among 
the  treasures  which  these  men  have  given  us,  we  can- 
not find  a  historical  account  of  the  origins  of  the  earl- 
iest civilizations  from  contemporary  sources.  This 
clearly  proves  that  people  unconscious  of  political 
ideas  could  not  write  what  they  did  not  perceive.  The 
process  of  social  evolution,  though  perhaps  clear 
enough,  as  we  have  seen,  had  reached  no  completed 
stage;  nor  was  it  simple  and  easily  discernible.  The 
movement  in  its  most  primitive  and  very  earliest 
revelation  was  complex,  low  as  was  the  organism. 
Many  still  dispute  the  right  of  the  ancient  East  to 

219 


220   THE  ORIENTAL  STATE  AND  NATION 


claim  a  history,  reiterating  that  the  organization  of 
its  society  was  so  low  and  its  movement  so  impercepti- 
ble that  Egypt,  Babylonia,  and  Assyria  were  just  as 
unhistoric,  as  India,  Japan,  and  China  were  non- 
historic,  fifty  years  ago. 

In  several  connections  it  has  been  emphasized  that 
those  peoples  were  called  nations,  only  for  conven- 
ience; and  not  because  they  were  nations  in  our  sense 
of  the  word.  Nevertheless  the  empires  of  Russia  and 
Turkey  were,  in  1914,  still  European  powers,  nations 
in  the  primitive  Oriental  sense.  In  the  Oriental 
monarchies  were  contained  many  germs  of  national 
life  whose  vitalizing  energy  is  far  from  exhausted  at 
the  present  hour.  It  would  be  worse  than  folly  to  dis- 
regard the  knowledge  of  formative  causes  which  we 
can  gather  from  them  even  better  than  we  can  from 
their  modern  perverted  survivals.  Processes  which 
they  inaugurated  have  partly  dribbled  away  into  the 
sandy  desert  of  modern  despotisms;  but  they  have 
also  run  through  fertilizing  channels  to  initiate  many 
of  our  present  conditions.  They  were  in  a  way  cu- 
riously democratic ;  and  never  has  property  been  more 
ingeniously  safeguarded.  Unquestionably,  as  regards 
the  record  of  the  human  race,  they  are  to  be  con- 
sidered historic.  If  we  accept  the  dictum:  No  state, 
no  history,  we  must  simply  expand  the  concept  under- 
lying the  word  state,  modifying  it  to  include  the  em- 
bryo. Though,  politically  speaking,  the  organization 
of  Oriental  peoples  was  very  simple  in  theory,  yet  from 
the  standpoint  of  civilization  they  were  historic  in  a 
high  and  permanent  way.  Beneath  the  shifting  sur- 
face of  changing  dynasties,  vast  migrations,  and 
periodic  revolutions  which  seemed  to  alter  nothing 
essential,  there  are  discernible  certain  true  national 
qualities:  settled  populations  with  common  beliefs; 
sovereigns  and  subjects  with  a  customary  law  which 
might  pass  for  a  civil  constitution;   territorial  pos- 


THE  ORIENTAL  STATE  AND  NATION  221 


sessions  occupied  by  a  society  recognizing  its  common 
origin  through  generation ;  and  institutions  which  were 
sufficiently  homogeneous  to  satisfy  the  social  nature 
of  the  people  living  under  them. 

The  ancient  Oriental  monarchies  therefore  may  be 
said  to  have  taken  two  most  important  steps  toward 
expressing  nationality:  domicile  and  the  establish- 
ment of  primitive  fundamental  relations  in  a  settled 
government.  There  was  a  people  upon  a  territory. 
But  the  relation  of  sovereign  and  subject  was  very 
indefinite;  the  relation  of  the  people  to  the  land  was 
equally  so;  there  was  no  distinction  between  the  rela- 
tions of  men  to  each  other  and  the  relation  of  man  to 
the  state.  There  may  be  said  to  have  been  a  distinct 
conflict  between  the  nation  and  its  organs.  In- 
dividuals there  were  in  the  sense  of  separate  men  and 
women;  but  there  was  no  direct  relation  between 
them ;  or  between  them  and  the  expression  of  sovereign 
power.  In  both  cases  the  old  family  group  of  kinsfolk 
was  an  effectual  barrier.  Absorbing  the  religious, 
moral,  and  material  lives  of  its  members  this  group 
regulated  all  their  actions.  They  stood  in  relation 
to  each  other  under  customary  law,  sanctioned  by 
experience  and  superstition,  administered  by  a  sacer- 
dotal patriarch  who  was  their  intermediary  with  the 
supreme  authority.  This  was  the  only  relation  which 
was  clearly  understood.  Over  wide  expanses  of 
territory  matters  continued  in  this  form  down  to  a 
very  late  day,  national  union  being  temporary  and 
incidental  to  some  emergency,  such  as  the  necessity 
for  common  defense.  It  was  easily  dissolved  after 
the  common  exertion.  Alexander  the  Great  found 
India  in  a  state  of  society  exactly  like  that  depicted  in 
Homer,  and  that  condition,  not  materially  changed, 
exists  in  many  parts  of  Asia  at  the  present  day. 

Though  much  disturbed  by  the  consequences  of 
warfare,  this  mediatory  system  was  never  entirely 


222    THE  ORIENTAL  STATE  AND  NATION 


destroyed  in  the  valleys  of  the  Nile  and  Euphrates. 
Those  highly  desirable  lands  were  occupied  by  con- 
querors charged  with  the  control  and  assimilation  of 
active  and  uneasy  aboriginal  inhabitants,  who  were 
not  autochthonous  but  had  themselves  once  been 
conquerors;  for,  apparently,  successive  waves  of  con- 
quest had  swept  over  both  valleys  from  prehistoric 
days.  For  the  control  of  these  restless  folk  and  their 
permanent  subjugation  two  elements  were  added  to 
that  of  patriarchal  sovereignty:  despotism  and  re- 
ligious awe.  We  know  that  the  man  of  that  time  was 
the  slave  of  superstition,  not  easily  separating  himself 
from  the  universe  in  which  he  lived,  believing  himself 
to  be  largely  controlled  by  the  mysterious  and  inex- 
orable powers  of  nature,  whether  dark  and  gloomy, 
or  bright  and  joyous.  The  conquering  monarch 
availed  himself  of  this  fact.  His  first  care  was,  of 
course,  to  establish  an  administration  for  his  despo- 
tism, to  which  blind  obedience  must  be  rendered  under 
the  sanction  of  force  in  the  last  resort.  But  simul- 
taneously and  as  an  even  stronger  sanction  he  an- 
nounced a  supernatural  revelation,  more  or  less 
direct,  and  proclaimed  either  himself  or  his  office  to 
be  a  manifestation  of  the  highest  divine  power; 
either  as  absorbing  in  his  own  person  all  means  of 
communication  with  the  gods  of  nature,  or,  as  being 
himself  semi-divine  and  infallible. 

This  new  relation  of  ruler  and  ruled  on  the  grand 
scale  wrought  in  time  a  complete  revolution  in  the 
relation  between  individuals:  a  common  bondage 
and  not  kinship  being  the  one  strong  tie  which  en- 
circled them.  This  formed  a  large  society  within 
which  intercourse  was  regulated  by  common  interest, 
an  interest  bounded  by  and  sometimes  disturbed  by 
despotic  caprice.  In  other  words,  all  power  descended 
from  above;  and  however  beneficent  its  rules,  these 
were  enforced  by  a  sanction  partly  supernatural. 


THE  ORIENTAL  STATE  AND  NATION  223 


partly  based  on  fear  and  force.  Of  personality  in 
the  high  sense,  of  personal  initiative  in  the  exercise 
of  choice  and  the  regulation  of  conduct  there  was  none 
in  public  life.  Of  course  human  nature,  however 
low,  could  not  be  entirely  stifled:  there  were  rebel- 
lious conspiracies  and  social  upheavals  without  num- 
ber or  bounds.  The  records  of  both  valleys  display 
absolute  blanks  which  can  only  be  accounted  for  by 
long  periods  of  utter  anarchy  and  the  chaos  of  cataclys- 
mic disturbances  in  society. 

Examining  those  ancient  nations  as  best  we  can  at 
this  distance  of  time  and  place,  we  are  equally  struck 
by  the  absence  and  by  the  existence  of  certain  condi- 
tions vitally  important  in  national  life  to-day.  There 
was,  for  example,  an  equality  of  the  most  complete 
kind ;  not  in  a  modern  sense  to  be  sure,  for  our  equal- 
ity is  the  equality  of  peers,  of  sovereigns,  of  man  as 
separate  from  the  world  about  him;  but  in  a  very  real 
sense,  equality;  that  is,  apart  from  the  ruler.  The 
distance  between  ruler  and  ruled  was  so  great  that 
any  inequalities  in  the  mass  disappeared  when  viewed 
from  his  lofty  height.  Before  the  awful  and  majestic 
embodiment  of  the  law  all  were  alike  subjects,  to  be 
exalted  or  cast  down  at  the  will  of  the  monarch  with- 
out reference  to  birth,  wealth,  privilege,  or  any  such 
features  as  would  have  been  the  cause  of  inequality 
apart  from  the  existence  of  the  sovereign.  There 
was  also  an  industry  such  as  even  our  age  regards  with 
amazement;  a  perfection  of  craft  and  a  largeness  of 
design,  a  beauty  of  ornament  and  adaptability  of 
plan  which  we  can  only  examine  in  despair.  In 
appearance,  however,  these  exquisite  results  seem  to 
have  been  due  to  the  initiative  "fiat"  of  the  superior; 
and  not  to  the  impulse  of  the  oppressed  people: 
occasionally  the  artist  appears  to  have  sought  consola- 
tion in  gloom  by  the  work  of  his  hands.  But  there 
were  none  of  the  liberties  which  we  designate  as  rights 


224   THE  ORIENTAL  STATE  AND  NATION 


to  life,  liberty,  and  the  pursuit  of  happiness;  the  right 
of  religious  liberty,  or  of  public  meeting,  of  free  con- 
tract, of  acquiring  property  by  labor,  and  of  keeping 
it.  Elaborate  deeds  and  mortgages  we  have  found, 
and  the  sanctity  of  real  estate  seems  to  liave  been  al- 
most a  fetich:  but  safeguards  to  personal  property 
were  the  person's  own  affair. 

Coincident  with  this  social  condition  there  was 
nevertheless  a  powerful  state,  vigorous  in  its  external 
relations  and  in  the  management  of  its  internal  affairs 
likewise.  Successive  ages  have  given  no  parallel 
examples  of  gorgeous  symbolism  in  religion,  of  an 
oppression  so  wholesale  that  it  reduced  entire  nations 
to  slavery,  compelling  laborious  drudgery  from  them; 
nor  of  a  territorial  expansion  so  wide  as  to  reach  the 
ends  of  the  then  known  earth.  The  impression  left 
after  a  just  consideration  of  the  ancient  Oriental  mon- 
archies is  one  of  vast  extent  and  degree  in  all  their 
component  parts;  power,  land,  people.  We  count 
their  subjects  by  millions  on  millions,  their  lands  by 
geographical  degrees;  and  when  we  contemplate  the 
warlike  achievements  of  a  Rameses  or  a  Sennacherib, 
we  discover  an  intensity  and  a  power  of  war  which 
seem  stupendous.  This  was  the  fact  as  long  as  one 
Oriental  aggregation  measured  itself  with  another: 
their  utter  helplessness  was  only  seen  when  Persia, 
typical  of  them  all,  undertook  to  chastise  Greece. 
Size  against  discipline  was  found  to  be  entirely  help- 
less. One  form  of  sovereignty  was  pitted  against 
quite  another;  and  was  found  inefficient.  In  the 
former  there  was  merely  the  attempted  expression  of 
custom,  of  despotism,  of  superstition  in  the  activity 
of  a  single  man ;  in  the  latter  there  was  the  organiza- 
tion of  the  purpose,  the  devotion,  and  the  faith  of  a 
people. 

Of  course  when  we  use  the  word  people  with  refer- 
ence to  Greece,  we  must  guard  against  any  identity 


THE  ORIENTAL  STATE  AND  NATION  225 


of  meaning  with  the  same  word  when  we  use  it  in 
speaking  of  the  Oriental  despotisms.  In  Greece 
every  human  being  stood  for  a  certain  measure  of 
spontaneous  potential  energy :  in  the  Orient  the  count- 
less men  and  women  had  lost  that  entirely;  if,  indeed, 
they  had  ever  possessed  it.  From  our  standpoint  it 
is  scarcely  possible  to  appreciate  the  condition  of 
what  we  call  by  prolepsis  the  people  of  the  early  Orient, 
the  masses  of  humanity.  Their  instinct  for  freedom 
was  never  entirely  quenched,  but  such  was  the  physi- 
cal geography  and  system  of  rule  that  a  discontented 
man  could  only  fly  to  the  inhospitable  mountains,  or 
the  trackless  forests,  or  the  desert  wastes,  which  sur- 
round the  oases  and  river  banks  on  which  civilization 
was  established.  The  only  escape  from  the  common 
servitude  was  death.  The  masses  therefore  sank  into 
mental  sluggishness  and  with  the  increase  of  popula- 
tion, the  subdivision  of  land  and  the  struggle  for 
existence  absorbed  all  else.  The  grasp  of  the  tyrant 
being  on  manufactures,  on  commerce,  and  on  what 
rudimentary  science  there  was,  none  of  the  three 
could  develop  and  emancipate  man  from  his  utter 
dependence  on  the  soil.  In  India  a  Brahmin  could 
demand  twenty-four  percent  for  the  use  of  his  ac- 
cumulated property,  a  handworker  sixty  percent; 
but  the  former  really  had  property,  the  latter  little 
or  none;  if  he  had,  he  could  not  collect  his  interest, 
while  the  former  could.  In  case  the  creditor  belonged 
to  the  privileged  class,  he  could  enslave  the  debtor. 

Not  that  the  oppression  was  always  the  same:  in 
the  great  monarchical  despotisms  it  was  exercised 
through  the  priests  for  the  king;  in  India  it  was  exer- 
cised by  the  so-called  kings  for  the  real  rulers,  the 
Brahmins.  Had  eastern  soil  been  dry  or  reluctant, 
habits  of  thrift  and  a  notion  of  the  essential  dignity 
of  labor  might  have  sprung  up,  but  where  nature 
yielded  great  returns  for  the  asking,  even  the  smallest 


226   THE  ORIENTAL  STATE  AND  NATION 


plot  would  afford  the  absolute  necessities  of  life:  and 
the  people,  being  neither  hungry  nor  cold,  lost  one 
stimulus  to  intellectual  agitation.  Oriental  luxury 
is  a  phrase  which  still  retains  some  significance,  its 
influence  on  the  early  despots  and  those  selected  to  be 
their  supporters  and  representatives  is  well  known. 
It  destroyed  the  finest  human  qualities,  just  as  com- 
pletely as  abject  poverty  does.  Ignorance  became 
rife  above  and  below,  licentiousness  destroyed  moral- 
ity, insignificance  was  the  only  guarantee  of  safety, 
and  energy  was  at  a  discount.  The  world  was  young, 
men  neither  felt  nor  suffered  then  as  now,  there  was 
no  hungry,  desperate  proletariat:  there  was  simply  a 
cessation  of  appetite,  a  dull  and  simple  round  in  ex- 
istence, a  general  apathy,  a  complete  stagnation. 
The  so-called  common  man  of  our  day  and  place  is, 
and  feels  himself,  far  removed  from  the  Turkish 
peasant,  or  the  Russian  moujik;  he  could  have  found 
nothing  whatever  in  common  with  the  plain  man  of 
the  ancient  Orient.  It  dimly  seems  as  if  while  men 
confounded  themselves  with  nature  in  a  dark  super- 
stition, they  scarcely  distinguished  between  them- 
selves sufficiently  to  understand  their  own  individu- 
ality. Of  self-knowledge  in  the  high  sense  there 
could  have  been  little  or  none  at  all :  the  wisest  of  all 
their  wise  men  had  one  emphatic  precept:  Know  thy- 
self. This  confusion  and  self-ignorance  made  possible 
the  powerful,  all-comprehensive,  despotism  we  have 
been  considering,  and  seems  to  have  rendered  totally 
impossible  anything  approximating  organized  society. 
The  state  was  a  man  or  a  system  in  direct  conflict 
with  the  people  and  the  nation  was  embryonic. 

With  society  in  this  condition  it  is  impossible  to 
speak  of  a  confusion  of  powers;  there  was  no  con- 
sciousness of  separate  powers.  The  powers  of  law- 
making, of  law-enforcing,  of  law-interpreting,  were 
barely,  if  at  all,  differentiated,  and  were  exercised  by 


THE  ORIENTAL  STATE  AND  NATION  227 


one  person.  In  the  family  group,  the  tribal  associa- 
tion, the  customary  unit,  whatever  it  is,  one  man  was 
king,  priest,  and  interpreter  of  custom.  These  groups 
had  stamped  easily  discernible  traces  on  all  society 
in  the  early  Oriental  empires,  but  their  chief  legacy 
was  the  influence  which  made  the  one  supreme  ruler 
analogous  in  all  respects  to  the  patriarchal  chief. 
Over  teeming  multitudes  a  single  man  could  not  exer- 
cise such  powers;  he  must  of  necessity  have  repre- 
sentatives. Hence  there  were  men  to  command  the 
army,  to  control  the  revenues  and  collect  them,  to 
administer  provinces,  and  so  on.  There  were  spies, 
too,  whose  business  it  was  to  make  reports  of  ad- 
ministrative officials  of  every  rank  to  their  employer, 
the  monarch.  Casual  observation  might  easily  de- 
ceive us  into  confounding  a  division  of  labor  with  a 
division  of  powers.  We  must  beware;  a  personal 
ministry  like  that  of  the  Czars  in  Russia  was  the  antip- 
odes of  a  constitutional  ministry  like  that  of  Great 
Britain;  although  we  call  them  by  the  same  name. 

In  those  immutable  civilizations  of  the  Orient  some- 
thing which  is  often  called  an  organization  was, 
however,  effected:  the  system  of  caste  in  a  more  or 
less  complete  form.  In  Egypt,  for  example,  there  was 
the  priestly  caste,  recruited  from  princes  of  the  royal 
blood,  which  was  the  depository  of  all  the  learning. 
They  ordered  the  religious  faith  and  observance  of 
the  people  and  as  the  sanction  of  authority  was  chiefly 
religious,  they  collected  the  taxes,  dispensed  justice, 
and  administered  the  realm.  There  was  next  the  sol- 
dier caste,  the  expression  of  sovereign  force,  which 
quelled  disorder  at  home  and  enforced  the  national 
will  abroad.  These  were  supported  by  the  agricul- 
tural class,  scarcely  to  be  called  a  caste,  who  tilled  the 
soil,  and  by  a  corresponding  artisan  class  in  which 
trades  were  hereditary  in  families.  This  was  indeed 
a  highly  artificial  state  of  society,  something  similar 


228    THE  ORIENTAL  STATE  AND  NATION 


existed  in  all  the  ancient  Oriental  nations;  something 
not  far  different  has  continued  to  exist  in  Russia. 
But  this  is  not  organization  in  the  true  sense  of  the 
word;  it  is  merely  a  distribution  of  the  functions  of 
sovereignty,  not  the  distribution  of  power.  The 
only  sense  in  which  we  could  speak  of  the  differentia- 
tion of  power  would  be  the  instinctive  division  of 
activities  which  finally  developed  into  the  division  of 
that  for  which  those  activities  are  in  operation.  It  is 
a  very  loose  usage  when  we  speak  of  the  Egyptian  or 
Russian  judiciary,  legislative,  and  executive.  These 
three  are  in  theory  one,  the  confusion  arises  in  the 
attempt  of  a  single  man  to  exercise  them  all. 

The  Orient  produced  another  form  of  state,  the  city- 
state  of  Phenicia,  the  parent  of  the  Carthaginian  oli- 
garchy. But  under  that  regime  there  was  no  corres- 
pondence between  state  and  nation  any  more  com- 
plete than  that  which  we  have  been  considering.  In 
the  first  place  there  was  never  any  independent  sover- 
eignty in  the  little  coastwise  strip  called  Phenicia. 
It  was  always  subject  to  the  overlordship  of  Egypt, 
Babylonia,  or  Persia.  And  whatever  autonomy  was 
exercised  in  return  for  services  rendered,  or  for  tribute, 
was  all  divided  up  among  many  little  city-states,  the 
connection  between  which  was  very  slight.  Like  the 
commonwealths  of  Greece  they  formed  at  times  a 
slack  union  under  the  leadership  of  one;  now  of  Sidon, 
then  of  Tyre,  and  to  Gebel  there  was  always  yielded 
a  slender  hegemony  which  we  do  not  understand.  The 
Phenicians  were  a  trading  people;  within  their  city 
communities  custom  was  quite  as  rigid  as  elsewhere 
in  the  Orient,  except  that  it  was  based  entirely  on 
common  material  interest,  instead  of  on  common 
birth  and  common  worship.  Their  affairs  were  man- 
aged by  an  elective  head  and  elective  assemblies 
on  purely  business  principles,  the  gradations  of  society 
being  determined  by  wealth.    Of  political  life  there 


THE  ORIENTAL  STATE  AND  NATION  229 


was  none  and  the  whole  system  would  have  no 
interest  in  the  discussion  of  the  nation  except  that 
out  of  it  grew  the  Carthaginian  oUgarchy  which  knew 
no  single  head  to  the  firm  but  became  a  great  business 
corporation  with  political  independence  and  a  na- 
tional sovereignty.  As  soon  as  Carthage  came  into 
contact  with  Rome  the  character  of  her  institutions 
was  seen  to  be  based  on  wealth,  on  her  commerce 
exclusively.  As  Persia  had  gone  down  before  Greece, 
so  Shemitic  Carthage  was  doomed  to  succumb  to  the 
successor  of  Greece,  whose  kindred  stock  was  also  one 
of  strong  individualism.  To  be  a  Roman  citizen  was 
to  possess  and  exercise  in  public  affairs  an  indomitable 
will.  We  may  perhaps  not  deny  that  Phenicia  and 
Carthage  had  political  existence,  but  just  in  so  far 
as  they  failed  to  develop  the  man  at  equal  step  with 
the  general  interest,  they  failed  in  securing  nation- 
ality, and  may  not  be  considered  true  nations. 

The  ancient  city-state  of  Greece  and  Rome,  though 
it  lacked  much  which  modern  nations  have  secured, 
does  not  display  a  situation  in  any  way  parallel  to 
that  of  the  Oriental  city-state.  We  have  already  seen 
that  whether  the  state  existed  for  the  man,  accord- 
ing to  the  Stoic  doctrine,  or  the  man  for  the  state,  as 
Pericles  declared,  yet  nevertheless  the  whole  general 
impulse  came  from  within  and  not  from  above.  Be- 
fore the  close  of  either  Greek  or  Roman  history  the 
single  municipality  had  rid  itself  in  great  measure, 
though  not  entirely,  of  custom  and  of  supernatural 
sanctions,  thus  developing  a  true  organization.  The 
motive  power  was  the  individual  will  and  right  reason 
of  each  man  interacting  on  those  of  other  men  to  pro- 
duce a  conclusion;  generally  reached  by  discussion, 
the  decision  was  the  expression  of  the  collective  will. 
This  in  turn  strove  by  education,  by  bodily  diet  and 
training,  by  the  patronage  of  art  and  the  sanction  of 
religion,  to  give  every  man  the  greatest  possible 


230   THE  ORIENTAL  STATE  AND  NATION 


stake  in  the  community,  to  bind  him  by  bonds  of  rea- 
son as  well  as  of  interest  to  a  society  in  which  he  be- 
lieved he  could  attain  comfort,  happiness,  and  his 
own  highest  perfection.  But  in  spite  of  many  phi- 
losophies the  process  did  not  transcend  the  munici- 
pality for  generations  and  generations,  if  ever:  the 
stranger  was  still  an  enemy.  Whatever  expansion  of 
the  system  there  was  consisted  in  the  conquest  and 
subsequent  rule  of  one  city-state  by  another  city- 
state.  Within  the  geographical  limits  of  Italy  the 
Roman  franchise  was  quite  different  from  the  Latin 
franchise;  or  Italian,  as  it  is  less  frequently  styled. 
Down  to  the  latest  day  the  device  of  representation 
occurred  to  no  one;  the  Roman  citizen  could  only 
enjoy  his  privileges  within  the  walls  of  Rome  itself. 

In  the  effort  thus  to  rule  the  world  the  Roman  com- 
monwealth devised  the  scheme  of  the  "Province" 
whereby  a  portion  of  the  civilized  earth  was  given 
to  an  individual  as  his  very  own,  to  rule  as  a  despot. 
This,  of  course,  was  in  contravention  of  all  the  prin- 
ciples which  in  the  municipal  polity  had  formed  and 
moulded  the  man  himself.  By  this  procedure  persons 
multiplied  who  had  accumulated  enormous  wealth 
outside  of  Rome  in  ways  hostile  to  free  government 
and  used  it  inside  Rome  to  acquire  a  degree  of  political 
power  that  menaced  all  her  liberties.  These  baneful 
influences  allied  themselves  to  the  weakness  inherent 
in  every  human  system  to  overthrow  it.  The  com- 
monwealth became  so  rotten  that,  deprived  of  the 
faith  on  which  its  forms  had  been  constructed,  it  was 
easily  converted  into  the  empire  and  thus  started  on 
the  backward  track  toward  the  Oriental  despotism 
which  it  eventually  became. 

The  appearance  of  organized  Christianity  as  a 
factor  in  social  life  introduced  the  necessity  for  reg- 
ulating the  relations  between  the  church  and  the 
state.    Constantine's  system  was  that  of  their  co- 


THE  ORIENTAL  STATE  AND  NATION  231 


ordinate  existence  in  theory;  in  reality  it  entirely 
subordinated  the  spiritual  to  the  temporal  power 
within  an  identical  realm;  a  realm  which  was  eventu- 
ally to  be  coterminous  with  the  entire  civilized  world. 
In  the  early  Oriental  monarchies  there  does  not  ap- 
pear to  have  been  a  conscious  aim  at  universal 
dominion;  in  that  of  Alexander  the  Great  it  appears 
for  the  first  time;  it  was  further  developed  in  the 
heathen  empire  of  Rome  by  the  spread  of  Stoicism; 
and  it  was  fully  conceived  in  the  Christian  empire  of 
Rome.  Here  then  was  an  Oriental  power  once  more ; 
hostile  to  the  existence  of  separate  nationalities. 
It  contained,  moreover,  a  new  element  which  felt 
not  only  the  possibility  of  universality  in  the  com- 
mon nature  of  man,  but  was  firmly  convinced  of  cer- 
tainty in  their  common  redemption.  Yet  the  Byzan- 
tine empire,  apparently  firm  on  a  double  foundation 
for  its  authority,  proved  to  be  an  anachronism:  the 
beliefs  of  the  individuals  under  its  sway  were  hostile 
to  its  aims  and  purposes.  Its  unstable  equilibrium 
was  toppled  by  the  appearance  of  a  new  race  in  the 
West  simply  because  there  was  no  correspondence 
within  its  bounds  of  organized  authority  to  organized 
society. 

This  Roman-Greek-Oriental  system  was,  however, 
utterly  unlike  the  earliest  monarchies  in  one  essential ; 
it  was  favorable  to  the  growth  of  individuality,  if  not 
of  organization  by  individuals.  The  man  under 
Constantine  and  his  successors  was  not  crushed.  The 
machinery  of  government  was  ruthless  enough,  but 
it  was  kept  in  perpetual  check  everywhere  by  the 
existence  of  the  church.  Under  the  powerful  protec- 
tion of  organized  Christianity  and  within  its  limits 
every  form  of  human  activity  except  political  was 
unrestrained.  The  heroes  of  the  early  Christian 
ages  are  churchmen;  but  they  are  churchmen  who 
stimulate  discussion  and  thought;  often  to  the  detri- 


232   THE  ORIENTAL  STATE  AND  NATION 


merit  of  ecclesiastical  unity;  but  generally  to  the 
great  and  immeasurable  benefit  of  the  human  mind. 
Within  the  church,  ability  rules  supreme;  no  differ- 
ence what  the  social  origin  of  its  possessor.  Ideas 
of  equality  are  cherished  and  the  habit  of  organization 
is  never  suffered  to  lapse.  There  is  thus  an  "im- 
perium  in  imperio,"  within  which  a  vigorous  personal 
life  is  displayed  as  regards  spiritual  matters;  and  this 
power  often  reaches  over  into  the  temporal  sphere: 
ability  is  ability,  however  displayed.  In  time  the 
ecclesiastic  becomes  the  ablest  statesman,  and  during 
the  dark  ages  the  only  one.  By  his  efforts  the  Holy 
Roman  Empire  is  conceived  in  the  interest  of  Catholic 
Christianity  and  made  the  channel  through  which 
the  ideas  of  order  are  transferred  to  the  mediaeval 
world.  Absurd  and  flimsy  as  it  now  appears,  it  was 
the  transmitting  link  between  old  and  new. 


VII 


THE  MEDIEVAL  STATE 

CHARLEMAGNE.     THE  HOLY  ROMAN  EMPIRE — FEUDALISM  IN  THE  STATE — 
THE  THIRTEENTH  CENTURY  AND  NATIONALITY — THE  NATION  AND  THE 

SUBJECT— FEUDALISM   IN   THE  CHURCH   VERY   FLUID  FEUDALISM  IN 

CITIES  FORMAL  AND  INCOMPLETE — FEUDALISM  AS  THE  OPPRESSOR  OF 
AGRICULTURAL  LABORERS — REVIVALS  OF  THE  HUMAN  SPIRIT — RE- 
NEWED COMMERCIAL  ENTERPRISE.  DISCOVERY  AND  INVENTION — NEW 
BIRTH   OF  THE   FINE   ARTS — ENLARGEMENT   OF  FEUDAL   UNITS — THE 

REFORMATION  COMPLETED    SENSE   OF    PERSONAL  RESPONSIBILITY  

FORMS  OF  THE  REFORMATION — INFLUENCE  OF  CALVIN  ON  POLITICS  

ECONOMIC  RESULTS. 

The  conception  of  personal  worth  was  not  weakened 
by  the  entrance  of  the  Teutons  on  the  stage  of  his- 
tory: far  from  that,  it  was  so  exaggerated  that  for 
a  time  political  organization  was  utterly  impossible 
and  unthinkable;  not  only  political,  but  even  social, 
was  for  generations  in  abeyance.  This  extreme  in- 
dividualism was,  of  course,  partly  due  to  the  revul- 
sion of  feeling  on  the  removal  of  the  strong  hand  of 
Rome  in  the  west;  but  it  was  also  a  natural  conse- 
quence of  the  wild,  free,  Teutonic  spirit,  operating  on 
the  worth  which  Christianity  attributed  to  the  in- 
dividual by  reason  of  the  immortal  soul  which  had 
equal  value  before  God  whether  it  have  its  earthly 
home  in  the  body  of  the  pauper  or  under  the  crown  of 
the  prince.  It  is  difficult  to  conceive  of  the  social 
chaos  which  would  have  prevailed  in  Europe  except 
for  the  enlightenment  of  Charles  the  Great  (Charle- 
magne) and  the  tremendous  force  he  exercised  in  the 
interest  of  learning,  morality,  and  order,  upon  all 
Germanic  peoples.  If  he  had  produced  successors 
like  himself,  something  closely  alhed  to  a  mixed  Ger- 
man-Roman universal  state  might  have  taken  the 
place  of  the  Roman  order.    As  it  was,  he  did  not  live 

233 


234  THE  MEDIEVAL  STATE 


long  enough  to  do  more  than  prepare  the  way;  and 
that  at  a  long  interval,  for  the  chemical  mixture  of 
the  two.  Under  Otto  the  Great,  the  nominal  sover- 
eignty of  Germany  and  Italy  under  a  Teutonic  prince 
was  definitely  established.  By  that  time  the  new 
society  had  been  stratified  into  three  layers:  the 
southern,  which  was  nearest  to  the  influence  of  Rome, 
retaining  a  strong  Roman  character  in  speech,  re- 
ligion, and  institutions;  the  northern,  which  was 
furthest  from  Rome,  retaining  an  almost  pure  Ger- 
manic character  except  that  it  had  adopted  Roman. 
Christianity,  and  got  such  scanty  spiritual  and  in- 
tellectual nourishment  as  it  received  from  the  Latin 
spirit  which  had  entirely  permeated  the  church;  the 
third,  which  was  between  the  two,  was  a  real  composite 
of  almost  equal  Roman  and  German  influences;  and 
in  it  appeared  the  new  institution  which  was  destined 
to  pervade  all  European  society  to  a  greater  or  less 
degree,  namely,  feudalism. 

The  first  effect  of  feudalism  to  be  briefly  noticed, 
in  order  that  it  may  speedily  be  dismissed,  was  the 
feudalizing  of  the  empire.  Slavery  was  replaced 
by  serfdom;  so  far  there  was  an  extension  of  human 
right,  and  there  was  in  the  largest  number  of  people 
something  akin  to  an  idea  of  rights  as  based  on  man- 
hood and  on  domicile.  The  ruler  himself  is  not  divine, 
but  is  the  vicegerent  of  God  in  the  second  or  third 
degree.  Since  power  is  now  localized  in  the  landed 
feudal  suzerains,  temporal  and  spiritual,  the  indi- 
vidual is  primarily  the  member  of  a  social  order, 
secondarily  a  citizen.  The  feudal  empire  is  based 
on  the  loyalty  not  of  persons,  but  of  great  vassals. 
The  allegiance  of  individuals  is  to  one  of  these  and 
not  to  the  emperor.  There  were  certain  cities  which 
had,  like  the  landed  fiefs,  a  direct  relation  to  the 
emperor,  and  since  their  burghers  were  free  men,  they 
stood  closer  to  the  emperor  than  the  persons  on  the 


THE  MEDIEVAL  STATE  235 


soil.  Theoretically  the  emperor  was,  from  God,  the 
fountain  of  political  power:  where  he  used  it,  he  was 
likely  to  use  it  wisely,  because  it  was  to  his  interest 
that  city  liberties  should  be  strengthened  as  a  counter- 
balance to  the  aggressions  of  the  powerful  feudatories. 
But  in  the  main  the  emperor's  functions  were  rather 
ornamental  and  ideal,  than  practical  and  real.  He 
was  the  fountain  of  honor,  the  keystone  of  the  feudal 
arch. 

Whatever  rights  and  privileges  the  people  enjoyed 
they  got  directly  from  the  feudal  lords,  not  from  the 
crown:  they,  and  not  the  Emperor,  were  the  de- 
pository of  authority.  This  authority  was  long  either 
of  a  personal  or  social  nature;  and,  in  time,  whatever 
organization  the  feudal  state  had  was  in  the  form  of 
social  classes  or  estates  as  they  are  termed.  These 
were:  the  sovereign,  the  nobility,  and  the  people,  as 
we  designate  them  for  want  of  a  better  term.  But 
the  people  were  legally  and  really  cleft  in  two:  the 
townsfolk  and  the  country  folk.  The  former  had  an 
organization,  the  latter  were  merely  adjunct  to  the 
land  owners,  a  sort  of  appanage  class.  Finally  in  the 
thirteenth  century,  one  of  the  great  transition  epochs 
of  history,  the  development  of  power  in  the  estates 
created  the  beginnings  of  true  nations.  The  feudal 
empire  sank  into  the  shadow  where  it  belonged,  feudal 
princes,  secular  and  ecclesiastical,  having  accumulated 
land,  and  therefore  power,  in  their  own  hands.  Thus 
was  introduced  a  new  element  into  the  nation;  a 
territory  no  longer  with  indefinite  but  with  well- 
defined  boundaries,  up  to  which  the  sovereignty  ran 
and  beyond  which  it  did  not  go.  The  frontier  of  a 
nation  was  the  boundary  of  the  fiefs  which  composed 
it,  no  matter  whether  they  were  contiguous  or  not. 
This  sovereignty  was  moreover  limited;  and  that  by 
effective  restraints.  The  functions  of  raising  money 
and  armies  were  exercised  only  by  the  representatives 


236  THE  MEDIEVAL  STATE 


of  those  who  paid,  sitting  as  separate  estates  of  the 
realm. 

These  limitations  of  power  were  so  strong  that  if 
the  means  of  exercising  them  had  been  clear  and  de- 
terminate, something  like  real  national  organization 
might  have  sprung  out  of  the  interaction  of  the  vari- 
ous classes  in  the  community,  and  the  individuals 
composing  them.  But  as  a  matter  of  fact  there  were 
no  means  of  securing  harmonious  action.  The  estates 
were  jealous  of  each  other,  and,  within  each,  the  feudal 
classification  of  individuals  was  so  fixed  that  there 
could  be  no  worth  in  a  man  as  a  man;  his  value  was 
due  to  artificial  and  inherited  distinctions.  Conse- 
quently the  estates  of  the  nobles  and  the  burgesses 
were  each  hampered  in  the  expression  of  their  separate 
wills  and  it  was  easy  for  the  sovereign  to  get  his  way 
by  setting  the  two  at  variance.  Finally,  on  the  con- 
tinent, he  made  a  permanent  alliance  with  the  bur- 
gesses and  crushed  the  aristocracy  as  a  political  power 
altogether.  Then,  for  the  first  time,  under  a  new 
absolutism,  something  like  a  real  unification  of 
authority  became  possible. 

This  explanation  is  at  the  same  time  that  of  how 
in  the  later  Middle  Ages  the  individual  came  to  have 
the  character  and  value  which  he  proved  to  have 
when  a  true  nation  was  first  formed.  It  is  the  re- 
sultant of  a  combination:  the  system  of  feudalism; 
the  survival  and  growth  of  cities;  and,  still  as  before, 
the  attitude  of  the  church  to  the  man.  The  basis  of 
feudalism  is  the  land.  The  feudal  seigneur  held  his 
acres  and  his  castle  on  condition  of  military  service. 
This  he  rendered  by  means  of  his  tenants  and  his  serfs. 
These  were  materially  in  a  condition  worse  than  that 
of  slaves:  morally,  however,  they  stood  far  higher 
because  being  attached  to  the  land  they  could  not  be 
treated  as  chattels;  nor  deprived  of  life  and  family 
rights,  except  by  process  of  law.    Each  feudal  unit 


THE  MEDIEVAL  STATE  237 


was  at  first  comparatively  small  and  entirely  separate 
from  every  other.  The  remoteness  of  the  overlord, 
seated  in  a  commanding  fortress,  from  others  of  his 
social  rank,  threw  him  for  companionship  on  the 
society  of  his  wife.  Marriage,  too,  was  a  sacrament 
of  the  church.  Family  life  in  the  modern  sense  of 
narrow  kinship  was  for  these  two  reasons  enormously 
developed.  Consequently  within  the  higher  class 
the  value  of  each  individual  was  duly  emphasized; 
especially  in  view  of  the  great  material  privilege  which 
rights  of  inheritance  attach  to  every  member  of  the 
family.  This  class  of  ties  was  so  easily  the  most 
important  that  the  relationship  gradually  modified  the 
formal  bonds  in  a  feudal  unit  until  a  personal  element 
imbued  them  all:  at  last,  whether  for  better  or  for 
worse,  legal  and  moral  relations  were  transformed 
into  personal  relations  by  mere  propinquity  and 
community  of  interest.  The  relation  of  a  man  to 
his  lord  was  often  as  passionate  as  the  devotion  of 
child  to  parent  and  sometimes  as  embittered  as  the 
hate  between  the  nearest  blood  relations.  The  strong 
individuality  of  the  feudal  overlords  was  the  quality 
which  made  them  well-nigh  incapable,  so  long  as  the 
system  was  vigorous,  of  subordination  in  an  organism ; 
the  dependence  on  them  of  other  freemen  cultivated 
in  the  superior  a  local  feeling  and  a  narrow  patriotism 
utterly  dissonant  to  larger  citizenship. 

Gradually  these  same  influences  remodelled  both 
the  church  and  the  society  of  the  towns.  In  the 
church,  however,  learning  found  a  refuge;  and 
heredity,  of  course,  played  no  r6le.  The  ecclesias- 
tical suzerain  was  generally  a  bishopric,  an  abbey,  or 
a  church  organization  of  some  sort.  Its  relations 
could  not  be  as  personal  as  those  of  man  to  man; 
and  the  constant  study  of  the  scriptures,  both  sacred 
and  secular,  kept  awake  the  sentiment  of  respect  for 
personal  ability:  the  meanest  man  could  rise  to  the 


238  THE  MEDIEVAL  STATE 


highest  office  in  the  hierarchy.  The  feudalism  of 
the  church,  therefore,  was  on  the  whole  formal,  be- 
ing opposed  to  fixity  of  class  within  its  own  organism. 
In  relation  to  the  outside  world  the  clergy  formed 
an  estate  with  the  most  powerful  and  extended  landed 
and  political  interest:  but  within  itself  there  was  a 
fluidity,  a  transfer  of  men  from  rank  to  rank  on  the 
ground  of  intellectual  or  spiritual  power  which  kept 
it  from  the  downward  tendencies  of  secular  feudalism. 

The  feudalism  pf  the  cities  was  even  less  com- 
plete. There  were  many  towns  in  the  southern  strip 
of  Europe  which  never  felt  its  influence  at  all.  The 
interchange  of  commercial  relations  between  these 
and  the  towns  of  central  Europe  familiarized  the  latter 
with  the  commercial  custom  and  law  of  the  Roman 
empire;  and  that  familiarity,  combined  with  interest, 
kept  alive  the  fires  of  personal  liberty  on  the  hearth- 
stones of  all  the  older  cities.  When  the  feudal  lords 
found  it  to  their  advantage  to  surround  their  castles 
with  a  population  of  artisans,  they  could  only  attract 
them  by  liberal  grants  of  privilege  and  thus  even  those 
cities  which  had  their  origin  in  feudalism  were  as  tur- 
bulent, self-assertive  and  free  as  the  others.  The 
burghers  were  all  divided  according  to  feudal  usage 
and  model;  into  apprentices,  journeymen,  and  mas- 
ters. But  these  were  only  different  stages  of  ad- 
vancement for  one  and  the  same  man,  not  permanent 
castes  at  all.  Consequently,  in  the  towns,  capacity 
and  wealth  were  the  measures  of  influence.  The 
forms  of  town  government  were  largely  democratic 
and  as  the  interests  of  commerce  and  industry  were 
often  diametrically  opposed  to  those  of  the  agricul- 
tural aristocracy,  they  learned  the  principle  of  federa- 
tion quite  as  readily  as  the  feudal  princes  learned  how 
to  acquire  and  hold  the  fiefs  of  the  weaker  sort  among 
themselves. 

The  only  considerable  number  of  human  beings 


THE  MEDIEVAL  STATE  239 


which  under  feudaUsm  enjoyed  no  high  degree  of 
individuality  were  the  agricultural  laborers.  These 
formed  an  enormous  class:  the  villains  and  the  serfs. 
The  former  fell  in  the  social  scale  under  feudal  in- 
fluences, the  latter  rose  but  slightly.  Their  activities 
were  controlled  with  an  iron  hand ;  they  were'deprived 
of  all  education  from  books,  and  the  education  from 
enterprise  of  whatever  kind.  Their  personality  was 
steadily  diminished,  their  minds  became  sluggish, 
their  discontent  narrow  and  unreasoning.  They  suf- 
fered but  did  not  know  why;  they  labored,  but  with- 
out advantage  to  themselves;  they  degenerated  into 
an  estate  so  low  that  some  generations  of  emancipa- 
tion have  not  sufficed  to  restore  their  manhood.  It 
was  not  until  the  revolutionary  period  of  the  later 
eighteenth  century  that  they  began  to  enter  upon  any 
degree  of  liberty,  and  even  then  their  long  subjection 
made  them  unfit  to  use  it.  They  either  undervalued 
it  or  else,  having  no  experience  to  guide  them,  turned 
it  into  license.  The  Russian  anarchy  of  to-day 
affords  a  striking  parallel.  Even  in  England  and 
the  western  continental  lands  they  can  scarcely  be 
said  to  form  an  integral  part  of  the  people.  What 
individuality  the  agricultural  laborers  possess  is 
limited  and  ofttimes  brutish.  When  we  speak  of 
the  great  revivals  of  the  human  spirit  which  occurred 
in  the  latter  Middle  Ages  throughout  the  western  world, 
the  agricultural  classes  must  be  excluded  almost  en- 
tirely. There  were  exceptions:  as  in  Scotland,  Hol- 
land, and  Switzerland. 

These  revivals  played  a  most  important  role  in  the 
evolution  of  modern  individuality.  They  brought 
learning,  morality,  and  liberty  not  exactly  into 
European  institutions,  but  to  the  doors  of  European 
men.  The  Califates,  eastern  and  western,  were  the 
depositories  of  knowledge  throughout  the  dark  ages 
of  Europe.    With  the  fall  of  Constantinople  the  By- 


240  THE  MEDIEVAL  STATE 


zantine  Greeks  came  flying  into  Europe.  They 
brought  with  them  their  language,  their  books,  and 
their  scholarship.  In  the  main  the  western  Roman 
church  had  cherished  Roman  ideas  along  with  the 
Latin  language.  Some  traces  of  Greek  learning  there 
had  always  been  in  central  and  western  Europe,  but 
they  were  scant  and  few.  The  formalism  of  the 
scholastic  philosophy  had  absorbed  the  mediaeval  in- 
tellect. From  the  Arabs  came  stores  of  knowledge, 
from  the  Greeks  a  new  method.  The  morality  of 
Hellenism  was  a  revelation  to  the  western  mind  and 
in  the  examination  of  this  novelty  the  scholars  of  the 
West  started  a  movement  which  resulted  in  the 
complete  emancipation  of  men  from  the  bondage  of 
formalism  and  authority.  The  tendency  of  this  en- 
lightenment was  toward  reason  as  a  principle  of  con- 
duct and  away  from  unreasoning  obedience  to  fixed 
standards. 

Almost  at  the  same  time  there  was  the  stirring  of 
commercial  enterprise.  The  Basques  and  the  Norse- 
men had  already  stripped  from  the  ocean  many  of  its 
terrors.  Portugal,  hemmed  in  by  Spain  to  landward, 
sought  an  outlet  for  her  newly  awakened  enterprise 
in  voyages  of  discovery  and  settlement.  It  was  she 
who  began  the  process  which  deprived  Venice  of 
her  proud  eminence;  and  Columbus,  turning  west- 
ward to  knock  "at  the  back  door  of  the  Indies,  found 
himself  at  the  front  door  of  America."  Eastward, 
southward,  westward,  and  northward  the  ships  of 
Europe  began  to  sail.  Trade  and  colonization  were 
born  again,  the  land  routes  becoming  insignificant 
compared  with  those  by  sea.  This  display  of  energy 
in  new  channels  seemed  to  open  limitless  vistas  of 
space  for  the  exercise  of  every  man's  powers  and  the 
resultant  colonization  of  distant  lands  became  a  fore- 
most element  in  making  man  valuable  for  his  achieve- 
ment rather  than  for  his  social  relations. 


THE  MEDIEVAL  STATE  241 


The  third  of  these  new  forces  was  seen  in  the  new 
birth  of  the  fine  arts.  The  piety  of  Latin  Chris- 
tianity had  long  made  use  of  architecture,  sculpture, 
and  painting;  but  the  fifteenth  century  added  to  the 
element  of  devotion  that  of  beauty  for  its  own  sake. 
Here  again  was  a  boundless  sphere  of  individual 
activity,  opened  by  the  touch  of  the  "dead  hand," 
as  contact  with  the  ancient,  classical  world  has  been 
designated.  The  society  of  the  Italian  common- 
wealths was  particularly  receptive  to  the  new  energy: 
but  it  permeated  in  time  all  western  Europe,  elevating 
artisans  into  artists,  making  the  arts  over  into  the 
fine  arts,  and  turning  practical  writing  into  literature. 
There  was  a  new  class  of  rulers:  those  who  swayed 
the  mind  of  men  by  the  power  of  the  imagination, 
who  erected  ideals  and  gave  new  channels  to  the 
passions.  The  illumination  was  so  brilliant  that  the 
worth  of  man  came  out  as  never  before.  There  seemed 
to  be  nothing  which  he  was  forbidden  to  do  if  he  wished 
to  do  it,  and  nothing  which  he  wished  to  do  that  he 
could  not  do.  We  compare,  and  justly,  the  Medicean 
age  of  Florence  with  the  Periclean  age  of  Athens,  or 
the  Augustan  age  of  Rome.  Florence  was  a  city  of 
seventy  thousand  souls;  but  in  two  centuries  it  pro- 
duced seven  men  of  everlasting  fame:  Dante,  Giotto, 
Petrarch,  Boccaccio,  Ghiberti,  Macchiavelli,  and 
Michelangelo. 

The  influence  of  such  an  astounding  awakening  of 
the  human  mind  upon  individual  man  was  incalcula- 
ble. A  radical  and  continuing  change  in  the  char- 
acter of  feudalism  exercised  a  powerful  supplementary 
influence,  resulting  in  the  formation  of  larger  and 
larger  units  within  which  authority  was  less  personal, 
and  much  better  organized.  The  monarchies  thus 
established  were  persistent  in  their  efforts  to  absorb 
the  small  oligarchical  commonwealths;  hereditary 
states  struggled  to  supersede  the  elective  ones.  This 


242  THE  MEDIEVAL  STATE 


they  strove  to  attain  partly  by  conquest :  but  marriage 
was  a  means  quite  as  adequate  and  introduces  into 
politics  the  new  element  of  family  or  dynastic  rival- 
ries. For  a  time  these  efforts  checked  the  ravages  of 
war;  not  merely  Europe  itself,  but  great  portions  of 
the  globe  were  subjugated  by  peaceful  means.  Where 
formerly  the  only  known  and  recognized  relation  be- 
tween political  units  had  been  war,  now  peaceful  inter- 
national relations  were  at  least  recognized,  although 
they  were  neither  defined  nor  understood. 

With  all  these  swift  advances  in  secular  life  toward 
a  complete  individuality  in  men,  the  very  organiza- 
tion which  had  for  ages  been  in  the  van  of  the  move- 
ment now  fell  to  the  rear.  The  church  could  not  keep 
pace  with  the  march  of  intellect  for  two  reasons:  in 
the  first  place,  her  head  had  become  a  secular  prince; 
in  the  second,  her  speech  had  become  with  time  a 
tongue  not  understanded  of  the  common  people.  Sec- 
ular literature  was  all  written  in  the  new  vernaculars 
of  Europe;  the  only  portion  of  the  ecclesiastical  or- 
ganization which  could  freely  speak  with  the  common 
folk  was  the  uninfluential  parochial  clergy.  The 
regulars  in  their  monastic  clubs  which  were  permeated 
by  the  exclusive  feudal  spirit  kept  to  the  common 
tongue  of  learning  and  the  mass-book.  Church  law 
and  church  order,  the  regulative  force  of  spiritual 
matters  in  detail  became  esoteric.  In  consequence 
faith,  at  last,  had  no  other  sanction  than  authority, 
habit,  and  superstition.  Just  in  proportion  as  the 
process  advanced  the  papacy  grew  more  and  more 
corrupt;  emulating  secular  princes  in  its  ambitions, 
its  extravagant  patronage  of  the  fine  arts,  its  luxury, 
its  vices,  its  greed.  The  day  of  reckoning  could  not 
long  be  postponed  when  once  intelligence  really 
reached  the  masses.  The  storm,  which  had  long 
been  gathering  force,  finally  broke  at  the  close  of  the 
Middle  Ages  in  the  Protestant  Reformation  of  the 
sixteenth  century. 


THE  MEDIEVAL  STATE  243 


This  was  almost  the  last  stage  in  the  evolution  of 
individuality.  The  secular  results  of  the  Reforma- 
tion make  it,  of  course,  the  greatest  single  political 
fact  of  history:  but  likewise  the  greatest  single  social 
fact.  In  the  last  analysis  the  movement  was  based, 
of  course,  not  merely  upon  a  religious  doctrine,  but 
upon<a  human  axiom:  that  in  ultimate  things  the  in- 
dividual must  be  emancipated  from  all  human  tram- 
mels whatsoever.  If  every  man  could  exercise  his 
reason  in  the  formation  of  his  judgment  and  his  choice 
in  the  conduct  of  life,  he  could  do  so  even  in  the  most 
solemn  of  all  opinions  and  choices,  those  relating  to 
his  eternal  welfare.  Viewed  from  the  philosophical, 
as  distinguished  from  the  theological,  standpoint,  the 
doctiine  of  justification  by  faith  which  Luther  warned 
Melanchthon  was  the  pivotal  doctrine  of  the  Reforma- 
tion can  be  nothing  more  nor  less  than  the  transfer 
of  personal  responsibility  into  the  sphere  of  religion. 
This  was  the  chief  concern  of  the  movement  in  its 
entirety  and  so  far  it  was  homogeneous  throughout 
all  the  lands  of  northern  and  western  Europe. 

Nevertheless,  it  took  three  general  forms,  which  we 
may  designate  as  the  Anglican,  Lutheran,  and  Cal- 
vinistic.  We  have  already  noted  that  each  is  char- 
acterized by  the  distance  it  fixed  between  itself 
and  the  established  usage  of  Latin  Christianity. 
But  all  are  characterized  by  one  identical  element, 
the  free  Teutonic  spirit  seeking  to  secure  a  pure 
Christianity:  the  Anglican  would  do  and  believe 
all  that  had  hitherto  been  done,  so  far  as  it  was 
not  categorically  forbidden  in  the  Scriptures ;  Luther, 
taking  similar  ground,  nevertheless  changed  what- 
ever he  judged  to  be  pernicious  in  itself  or  to  exhibit 
dangerous  tendencies;  the  Calvinist  would  do  nothing 
for  which  he  could  not  quote  from  the  Bible  a  "Thus 
saith  the  Lord."  They  were  all  historical,  for  the 
Calvinist  was  as  staunch  an  upholder  of  the  idea  of 


244  THE  MEDIEVAL  STATE 


a  universal  state  and  a  universal  church  as  St.  Augus- 
tine himself,  in  many  respects  he  was  vastly  the  most 
theocratic  of  the  three.  With  the  essential  merits 
of  these  three  forms  of  reformed  religion  we  are  not 
concerned  except  in  one  respect:  the  influence  which 
was  eventually  exerted  upon  politics,  upon  the  rela- 
tion of  man  to  the  state,  upon  the  various  societies 
they  permeated,  and  upon  the  essential  qualities  of 
the  nation  as  finally  formed. 

To  this  end  we  may  fairly  examine  them  historically. 
Within  no  very  long  period  we  see  in  Germany  and 
the  Scandinavian  states  that  Lutheranism  was  su- 
preme and  was  everywhere  accompanied  by  absolut- 
ism, monarchical  and  aristocratic.  In  France,  in 
the  Netherlands,  in  Geneva,  and  in  Scotland,  we  find 
Calvinism  absorbing  the  entire  activity  of  the  Ref- 
ormation: in  France  it  was  held  by  the  Huguenots, 
who  were  largely  identical  with  the  lower  aristocracy 
and  the  upper  middle  classes.  In  Scotland  the  aris- 
tocracy and  the  masses  were  in  the  main  Calvinistic. 
A  very  few,  as  in  England,  rejected  the  Reformation 
altogether.  In  England  some  of  the  lower  aristocracy 
and  a  large  majority  of  the  masses,  especially  in  the 
eastern  shires,  were  Calvinistic.  "Calvin,"  says  Ban- 
croft, "infused  enduring  elements  into  the  institutions 
of  Geneva  and  made  it  for  the  modern  world  the  im- 
pregnable fortress  of  popular  liberty,  the  fertile  seed- 
plot  of  democracy.  .  .  .  He  bequeathed  to  the  world 
a  purer  reformation,  a  republican  spirit  in  religion, 
with  the  kindred  principles  of  republican  liberty." 
The  Reformation  in  England  proceeded  not  from  the 
bottom  up,  as  in  most  lands,  but  from  the  top  down- 
ward. There,  it  discarded  neither  royalty  nor  hier- 
archical church  government;  but  Calvinism  per- 
meated the  articles  of  confession,  thereby  inspiring  a 
large  and  intelligent  element  of  the  people,  Puritans 
in  England,  Covenanters  in  Scotland,  to  the  greatest 


THE  MEDIAEVAL  STATE  245 


sacrifices  for  personal  liberty  which  the  world  has 
ever  seen.  Moreover,  they  were  practically  efficient, 
because  they  have  gone  farther  toward  securing  it 
than  any  others,  and  have  served  as  an  example  to 
every  existing  free  nation. 

To  this  important  element  of  social  and  political 
reform  the  movement  of  the  Reformation  added  yet 
another,  an  economic  transformation  which  elevated 
and  braced  every  Protestant  country,  while  its  ab- 
sence for  a  time  enervated  all  Roman  Europe  and 
left  it  far  behind  in  development  and  influence.  Ma- 
caulay  has  with  striking  effect  called  attention  to  the 
economic  contrast  between  Scotland  and  Italy,  which 
appears  to  be  in  inverse  ratio  to  their  natural  ad- 
vantages; to  the  steady  descent  of  Spain,  and  the 
equally  regular  ascent  of  Holland;  and  in  recent,  al- 
most contemporaneous,  times  to  the  painful  difference 
between  Protestant  and  Roman  Catholic  communities 
in  the  same  country  [e.  g.,  Germany,  Switzerland,  and 
Ireland],  to  the  vast  difference  in  the  progress  of  the 
United  States  on  the  one  hand,  and  that  of  Mexico 
and  Brazil,  on  the  other.  The  effort  of  Roman 
Catholic  historians  to  account  for  this  phenomenon 
is  confined  to  a  single  allegation,  which  though  con- 
taining a  truth  is  insufficient :  that  in  Protestant  com- 
munities the  diminution  in  the  number  of  festivals  and 
the  absence  of  saints'  days  increases  the  days  of  work, 
just  as  the  closing  of  convents  adds  to  the  number  of 
laborers.  For  us  the  sufificient  explanation  is  in  the 
maxim  that  work  is  prayer:  that  personal  responsi- 
bility in  every  act  so  dignifies  that  act,  however 
menial,  as  to  make  it  worship.  It  is  persistently 
stated  that  the  expansion  of  European  nationalities 
was  the  great  immediate  formative  influence  in 
producing  the  modern  state.  No  doubt.  But  Portu- 
gal, after  making  an  auspicious  beginning  in  coloniza- 
tion, failed.    So  did  Spain.    France  likewise.    At  the 


246  THE  MEDIEVAL  STATE 


close  of  the  colonization  epoch  but  two  powers  re- 
mained with  permanent  acquisitions:  England  and 
Holland;  lands  both  of  which  were  distinguished 
by  high  quality  in  the  instrumentalities  they  em- 
ployed; preeminent  in  regard  to  morality,  economic 
management,  and  practical  policy  as  things  inherent 
in  powerful  personality. 


VIII 


THE  MODERN  STATE 

ROMAN  AND  TEUTONIC  BRANCHES.  RELIGIOUS  LIBERTY — ABSOLUTISM 
AND  ECCLESIASTICISM — CONFUSION  OF  POWERS  DUE  TO  SURVIVALS — 
DYNASTIC  POLITICS  OPPOSED  TO  NATIONAL— ELEMENTS  OF  A  NATIONAL 

STATE — PERSONAL  RESPONSIBILITY  AND  THE  PUBLIC  GOOD  ALLIANCE 

BETWEEN    BURGESSES   AND    BARONS    IN    ENGLAND  THE    DEVICE  OF 

REPRESENTATION — THE  DEVICE  OF  PARTIES — THE  BRITISH  PEOPLE 
AND  A  PARLIAMENTARY  KING — LIBERTY  AND  PROPERTY.  THE  AMERI- 
CAN REVOLUTION — DEFECTS  OF  THE  BRITISH  SYSTEM.  TAXATION — 
THE  REVOLUTION  OF   1 789 — UNITY  OF  GOVERNMENT  AND  NATION — 

SOVEREIGNTY    AND    CONSTITUTIONAL    GOVERNMENT  THE  AMERICAN 

CONSTITUTION  AND  DEMOCRACY — WHERE  SOVEREIGNTY  RESIDES — 
DEMOCRACY  DEPENDENT  ON  ENLIGHTENED  CITIZENSHIP. 

From  such  considerations  it  is  easy  to  see  why  no  two 
writers  can  agree  concerning  the  advent  of  modern 
times.  In  our  discussion  it  is  plain  that  modern  times 
begin  with  the  emancipation  of  the  man  from  the 
power  of  society,  whether  tribal,  theocratic,  munici- 
pal, imperial,  or  feudal:  not  with  the  beginnings  of  the 
process  nor  with  the  end,  for  the  end  is  not  even  yet ; 
but  with  the  epoch  when  organized  authority,  finding 
that  individuals  have  in  personal  development  far 
outstripped  the  development  of  institutions  begins, 
either  spontaneously  or  under  compulsion,  to  adapt  it- 
self to  the  new  social  condition  of  which  the  recognized 
central  fact  is  the  worth  of  man.  It  is  impossible, 
therefore,  to  identify  the  beginnings  of  modern  his- 
tory with  the  Renaissance  or  the  Reformation.  For 
nearly  two  centuries  after  the  latter  the  civilized  world 
was  so  busy  in  securing  its  religious  liberty  and  ad- 
justing the  new  international  relations  consequent 
on  the  division  of  the  European  state  system  into 
Teutonic  and  Roman  branches  that  in  politics  ab- 
solutism of  a  most  unyielding  type  reigned  more  or 

247 


248  THE  MODERN  STATE 


less  supreme.  The  first  successful  effort  of  the  in- 
dividual to  express  his  personality  in  the  state  was 
the  English  revolution  of  1688.  That  was  insular  in 
its  nature  and  imperfect  in  its  extent.  The  American 
revolution  of  1776  was  primarily  a  supplement  to  the 
English,  being  likewise  purely  constitutional  in  char- 
acter. The  movement  culminated  on  the  continent 
of  Europe  in  the  French  revolution  as  we  so  narrowly 
and  imperfectly  call  it,  which  was  both  a  political  and 
social  revolution.  Its  far-reaching  character  is  even 
now  but  imperfectly  understood,  because  of  the  vio- 
lence in  France  which  checked  and  temporarily 
thwarted  it.  But  from  that  day  onward  it  has 
been  dimly  seen  that  the  nations  in  the  van  of  civiliza- 
tion have  been  chiefly  concerned  to  give  expression 
in  their  administration  to  some  portion  or  all  of  the 
social  elements  contained  within  their  borders. 

But  with  the  settlement  of  the  European  state- 
system  to  which  reference  has  already  been  made  the 
essential  qualities  of  the  modern  nation  are  clearly  dis- 
cernible, when  we  examine  the  organisms  from  with- 
out: a  considerable  population,  creating  sovereignty 
over  a  large  fixed  territory,  with  unity  of  social  pur- 
pose and  identity  of  destiny,  with  a  distinct  separation 
between  rulers  and  ruled,  an  imperfect  representation 
of  the  latter  in  the  sovereignty  and  an  organic  nature 
in  the  whole.  If,  however,  we  examine  the  internal 
constitution  of  the  nations,  we  feel  that  in  the  mat- 
ter of  personal  development  the  individual  has  far 
outstripped  the  political  institutions  under  which  he 
lives  and  that  while  the  nation  is  formed  there  is 
little  or  no  correspondence  between  it  and  the  state. 
Throughout  the  Reformation  period  and  the  two 
centuries  following  the  chief  concern  of  philosophy  and 
religion  was  to  find  how  the  new  national  life  might 
find  free  scope  in  politics.  The  new  state,  though 
formed,  was  essentially  mediaeval  because  saturated 


THE  MODERN  STATE  249 


with  remnants  of  feudalism,  partly,  and  thoroughly 
with  ideas  alike  feudal  and  ecclesiastical.  There  was 
still  a  claim  that  kings  ruled  by  divine  right  and  that 
consequently  many  of  the  regulative  principles  must 
be  theological  in  their  nature;  that  unity  of  creed  was 
essential;  that  in  the  relations  of  church  and  state 
there  was  necessarily  a  conflict,  with  the  advantage 
on  the  side  of  the  former,  as  the  spiritual  body  was 
the  higher,  having  the  right  to  control  marriage, 
births,  legitimacy,  inheritance,  and  above  all  educa- 
tion. The  spiritual  and  the  temporal  were  hopelessly 
mixed. 

Politics  were  also  confused  in  the  twofold  claim  of 
the  sovereign  to  be  alike  ruler  and  owner  of  the  land, 
royal  power  being  dynastic,  that  is  of  a  family  nature. 
In  consequence  there  was  no  unity  of  jurisprudence, 
the  king  ruling  one  portion  of  his  dominion  by  one 
feudal  custom,  another  by  another,  and  so  on.  Not 
only  was  law  different  in  each  fief,  there  was  also  a 
difference  in  the  degree  of  power  exercised  by  the 
sovereign.  Both  the  feudal  aristocracy  and  the  third 
estate  had  in  their  oaths  of  fealty  retained,  in  different 
places  under  varying  contingencies,  rights  and  privi- 
leges as  various  as  the  places.  Hence,  of  course,  the 
estates  had  no  fixed  degree  even  of  the  most  imperfect 
representation  in  sovereignty  which  they  enjoyed  and 
no  settled  guarantee  thereof.  After  the  clergy  se- 
cured recognition  as  an  estate  and  all  three  were  sum- 
moned, almost  as  a  matter  of  course,  intelligence  and 
power  assumed  control :  nobles  and  clergy  considered 
leadership  a  prescriptive  right,  and  both  were  thor- 
oughly feudal  in  temper.  Nor  had  the  modern  state 
cut  itself  loose  from  the  irregularities  of  mediaeval  ad- 
ministration, within  which  the  personal  element  re- 
mained so  strong  and  the  inherited  tendencies  so 
powerful  that  the  peasantry  secured  no  consideration 
whatever;   national  character  was  not  embodied  in 


250  THE  MODERN  STATE 


the  absolute  king.  In  fact,  absolute  as  he  considered 
himself,  the  monarch  was  sorely  hampered  by  the 
local  and  particularistic  influence  exerted  by  powerful 
families. 

Most  of  all  this  was  understood  by  the  advanced 
thinkers  of  Europe  to  be  utterly  wrong;  yet,  to  have 
set  everything  right  at  once  would  have  been  to  in- 
augurate anarchy.  The  intelligent  middle  and  upper 
classes  believed  that  man  had  worth  as  man,  that 
neither  slavery  nor  serfdom  were  consistent  with  that 
principle,  that  labor  was  free,  and  that  the  product 
of  labor  was  the  property  of  the  laborer.  They  knew 
that  the  state  could  claim  no  authority  over  the  in- 
dividual in  spiritual  matters:  in  religion,  in  science, 
and  in  art;  that  man  did  not  exist  merely  in  or  for  the 
state,  but  had  an  independent  personality  developing 
itself  from  within;  that  even  such  sovereignty  as  the 
state  possessed  was  not  absolute,  but  limited  and  de- 
pendent on  the  representation  of  the  citizens.  This 
much  even  mediaeval  society  understood  in  contradis- 
tinction to  the  city  idea  of  Greece  and  Rome.  But 
modern  thought  went  further  and  separated  utterly, 
in  theory,  at  least,  the  spiritual  from  the  temporal 
organization,  determining  the  character  of  the  latter 
by  experience  and  reason,  endeavoring  to  comprehend 
the  ways  of  God  by  his  dealings  with  men  in  human 
institutions.  The  authority  of  the  nation,  therefore, 
is  primarily  derived  from  the  people  as  a  part  of  the 
general  moral  order:  and,  leaving  to  the  church 
its  own  sphere,  it  aims  to  systematize  administration 
and  government  in  correspondence  with  national  wel- 
fare, common  wealth.  Citizenship  consequently  is 
not  dependent  on  worship  or  creed.  Both  are  to  be 
protected  and  all  forms  are  either  to  be  tolerated  or 
considered  as  upon  the  same  basis.  The  foundation 
of  the  state  should  be  not  dynastic  but  national,  and 
its  laws  should  have  their  basis  in  the  equality  of  all 


THE  MODERN  STATE  251 


men.  The  national  spirit  is  to  be  embodied  in  a 
suitable  constitution. 

From  this  it  follows  as  a  corollary  that  representa- 
tion should  be  uniform  and  based  on  manhood,  that 
the  state  should  concern  itself  with  the  well-being  of 
all  alike.  It  must  concern  itself  with  political  econ- 
omy, with  education,  with  the  administration  of 
law,  with  culture  in  a  large  sense,  with  its  own  de- 
fense against  external  and  internal  foes;  but  not 
primarily  with  any  one  of  them.  Its  chief  concern 
is  the  minimizing  of  its  interference  with  each  and  all 
of  these  to  the  lowest  point  in  order  that  each  in- 
dividual may  suffer  least  for  the  common  benefit  and 
enjoy  the  most  for  his  own,  on  his  own  initiative. 
Where  private  or  associated  enterprise  is  insufficient 
to  carry  out  what  is  manifestly  a  public  benefit  it  may 
be  supplemented  by  public  assistance.  The  inter- 
ference of  this  national  state  with  other  national 
states  must  also  be  the  least  possible  in  order  that 
principle  and  reason  may  as  far  as  possible  control 
external  as  well  as  internal  relations. 

Such  were  the  convictions  which  were  developing 
and  spreading  throughout  the  sixteenth  and  seven- 
teenth centuries,  a  period  which  is  generally  regarded 
with  pity  as  an  age  when  enlightened  men  were  dash- 
ing themselves  against  immovable  barriers  only  to 
recoil  bleeding  and  unsuccessful.  As  a  matter  of 
fact  they  produced  the  sturdiest  individuality  the 
world  has  seen;  clear  convictions  and  the  physical 
courage  which  accompanies  them,  a  splendid  self- 
reliance  born  of  a  willingness  to  take  up  and  carry 
the  burdens  of  personal  responsibility  for  the  public 
good,  a  just  discrimination  between  what  a  man  owes 
to  himself  and  what  he  owes  to  others  with  no  undue 
emphasis,  perhaps,  on  the  last.  It  is  true  that,  for  a 
time,  when  once  religious  liberty  was  secured  and  the 
civilized  world  girded  itself  to  secure  political  liberty, 


252  THE  MODERN  STATE 


that,  for  a  season,  humane  considerations  were  held 
in  abeyance,  that  pity  was  not  sufificiently  exercised, 
that  the  relation  of  organized  society  to  man  in  guid- 
ing and  directing  him  was  insufficiently  studied  and 
understood.  But  as  yet  the  mawkish  sentimentality 
which  substitutes  pity  for  principle  and  endeavors  to 
relieve  the  individual  of  all  personal  responsibility 
by  merging  his  choice  and  conduct  in  the  movement 
of  society  had  not  appeared.  It  is  the  problem  of 
our  age  to  hold  the  middle  course  between  the  two. 

The  first  stage  of  the  fight  was  ancillary  to  the  Eng- 
lish revolution  of  1688.  England  by  reason  of  her 
insular  position  had  retained  more  of  her  primitive 
liberties  than  any  other  one  of  the  sisterhood  of  modern 
states.  She  had  also,  through  the  Norman  conquest, 
been  more  thoroughly  feudalized  than  any  other.  In 
consequence  of  these  two  facts,  when  the  Angevins 
mounted  the  throne  as  stark  foreigners  with  greater 
dominions  outside  the  island  than  in  it  and  deter- 
mined to  exercise  an  iron  absolutism,  a  curious  and 
exceptional  social  alliance  was  made  within  the  na- 
tion— an  alliance  between  the  barons  and  burgesses 
for  the  preservation  of  their  liberties;  on  the  continent 
of  Europe  the  king  and  the  burgesses  contrariwise 
universally  allied  themselves  to  destroy  feudalism, 
their  common  foe.  In  consequence  of  the  baron- 
burgess  alliance  in  England,  the  great  assembly  of 
the  people  never  ceased  to  sit  and,  even  in  the  most 
troublous  times,  to  express,  however  imperfectly,  the 
participation  of  the  nation  in  the  government  of  the 
state. 

For  the  same  end,  or  rather  to  secure  a  more  com- 
plete participation  of  the  nation  in  the  govern- 
ment, Simon  of  Montfort  employed  the  device  of 
having  the  plain  people  who  could  not  find  time  and 
money  to  attend  the  meetings  of  the  great  assembly 
formally  choose  and  send  some  one  from  among  them 


THE  MODERN  STATE 


253 


to  speak  and  decide  on  their  behalf.  This  replaced 
the  haphazard  attendance  earlier  described  and  was 
the  first  introduction  into  political  life  of  a  twofold 
institution  which  since  that  time  has  formed  the  very 
most  essential  feature  of  the  modern  state.  These 
representative  persons  sat  by  themselves  and  formed 
a  house  of  the  common  people  or  commons;  while 
the  grandees,  who  still  came  in  person  to  the  general 
assembly  of  the  nation,  sat  by  themselves,  as  was 
the  fashion  of  the  estates,  and  constituted  the  house 
of  lords.  This  two-chamber  or  bicameral  system  has 
since  come  to  be  considered  the  safeguard  of  the  law- 
making power. 

At  the  close  of  the  Reformation  the  occupant  of  the 
English  throne  held  her  place  by  a  parliamentary 
title ;  although  her  conduct  was  that  of  a  purely  hered- 
itary, absolute  sovereign.  With  the  advent  of  the 
Stuarts  the  principle  of  hereditary  kingship  was  re- 
asserted and  with  what  was  considered  its  establish- 
ment an  attempt  was  made  to  introduce  ideas  like 
divine  and  indefeasible  right  which  were  considered 
its  necessary  corollaries.  Such  propositions  were 
by  no  means  self-evident;  bodies  of  men  which  had 
been  formed  and  had  gained  cohesion  in  the  long  strug- 
gle for  religious  liberty  found  themselves  divided  in 
opinion;  some  supporting,  some  resisting.  This  was 
the  appearance  for  the  first  time  of  another  political 
device,  that  of  parties.  Not  but  that  there  had  been 
divisions  of  political  opinion,  and  consequently  fac- 
tions long  before:  Guelfs  and  Ghibellines  in  western 
Europe;  Greens  and  Blues  in  Byzantium,  Red  and 
White  Roses  in  England,  to  name  but  a  few.  This 
division,  however,  was  the  only  one,  so  far  in  history, 
between  men  sharing  in  the  government  of  the  state 
and  carrying  responsibility  for  the  service  of  the  state : 
the  first  step  in  determining  the  form  of  the  British 
constitution.    These  bodies  being  first  largely  religious 


254  THE  MODERN  STATE 


soon  became  religio-political ;  and  on  the  consumma- 
tion of  the  revolution,  purely  political.  During  the 
two  first  stages  of  their  existence  one  of  them  was 
Calvinistic  in  the  narrow  sense;  its  successor  con- 
tinued to  be  so  in  the  political  sense. 

By  using  these  two  new  devices :  representation  and 
parties,  the  English  people  asserted  as  against  the 
regime  of  absolutism  that  the  state  could  not  be  a 
single  man,  but  that  the  English  people  had  the  right 
to  choose  their  own  governors  and  the  right  to  cashier 
them ;  in  other  words  that  the  right  to  frame  a  govern- 
ment was  inherent  in  the  governed.  This  was,  of 
course,  a  tremendous  step  toward  realizing  a  true 
modern  national  state.  Perhaps  nothing  more  than 
the  unhampered  working  of  those  principles  was 
necessary  to  have  produced  the  modern  state.  But 
they  could  not  work  unhampered  in  a  society  con- 
stituted as  English  society  was.  For  a  century  and 
a  half  the  system  of  representation  continued  in- 
complete, the  participation  of  various  classes  in 
government  most  unequal;  the  conservative  forces 
of  absolutism  were  so  powerful  as  sometimes  to  stop 
all  development. 

The  next  stage  of  the  great  battle  for  liberty  was 
the  American  Revolution.  Among  the  British  colo- 
nists of  North  America  the  principles  of  1688  were 
hailed  with  satisfaction,  not  because  they  were  new, 
but  because  they  expressed  political  habits  already 
formed.  So  far,  the  only  important  questions  of 
their  political  life  were  those  relating  to  trade  and 
taxation.  The  cry  of  the  English  people  at  home  had 
been  Liberty  and  Property.  Locke  had  laboriously 
proved  that  Property  was  antecedent  to  and  inde- 
pendent of  the  state.  Englishmen,  wherever  found, 
firmly  believed  that  property  was  sacred  and  that  the 
chief  function  of  the  state  was  to  guard  their  natural 
rights,  especially  the  natural  right  of  property.  In 


THE  MODERN  STATE 


255 


the  colonies  it  was  admitted  that  trade  as  an  imperial 
affair  might  be  regulated  at  Westminster:  internal 
taxation  must  be,  they  firmly  held,  the  business  of 
their  own  representatives.  So  it  was  and  so  it  re- 
mained until  a  new  Toryism  arose  in  England  which 
asserted  that  absolute  sovereignty  resided  in  parlia- 
ment, not  because  it  was  a  representative  body,  but 
because  the  natidti  had  placed  it  there  as  a  trust: 
the  nature  of  parliamentary  membership  mattered 
not  at  all,  each  person  sitting  in  it  being  representative 
not  of  a  borough,  locality,  or  constituency,  but  of 
every  interest  of  the  whole  empire.  From  this  it  fol- 
lowed that  the  sovereign  parliament  might  lay  internal 
taxes  on  any  part  of  the  empire  as  well  as  regulate 
trade.  Keen  and  logical  reasoners  like  Townshend 
soon  exposed  the  fallacy  that  any  difference  exists  be- 
tween internal  and  external  taxation;  and  if  they  be 
identical,  as  they  are,  then  parliament  may  lay  one 
kind  and  the  other. 

This  reasoning  had  no  appeal  for  the  Americans: 
they  believed  it  repugnant  to  the  spirit  of  the  British 
constitution,  vi'hich,  they  were  sure,  contemplated 
actual  and  not  apocryphal  representation,  specious 
as  the  Tory  reasoning  was.  In  any  case  they  were 
determined  that  their  direct  taxes  should  be  laid  only 
by  themselves;  the  plea  of  virtual  representation  was 
held  up  to  derision  and  contempt  as  a  manifest  dis- 
tortion of  the  truth  as  revealed  in  the  fair-minded 
study  of  English  history.  When,  therefore,  they  con- 
vinced themselves  that  the  distinction  between  in- 
ternal and  external,  direct  and  indirect,  taxation 
would  not  hold,  they  changed  the  cry:  No  represen- 
tation, no  taxation,  into  another,  which  was  really 
revolutionary:  No  representation,  no  legislation.  It 
was  revolutionary  because,  under  the  English  colonial 
system  of  that  day  there  was  no  provision  whatever 
for  the  representation  of  colonials  in  parliament.  A 


256  THE  MODERN  STATE 


war  fought  on  the  principle  so  squarely  enunciated 
was  a  revolutionary  war.  According  to  the  letter  of 
parliamentary  acts  and  judicial  decisions  from  which 
the  unwritten  British  constitution,  based  largely  on 
precedent,  was  derived,  the  Tory  view  may  not  have 
been  illogical.  But  the  regular  development  of  its 
principles  and  spirit  in  America  was  both  logical  and 
historical.  Our  fathers  saw  that  absolutism  was 
just  as'dangerous  when  resident  in  an  unrepresentative 
assembly  as  when  incorporated  in  the  personality  of 
a  king.  More  firmly  than  ever  before  they  took  their 
stand  on  the  rights  of  Englishmen  as  then  understood. 
Further,  they  unconsciously  felt  the  rights  of  man, 
English  or  other,  and  reserved  them  in  their  minds 
from  the  aggression  of  all  constituted  authority.  This 
could  only  mean  that  the  American  state  was  to  be  the 
servant  of  the  man.  In  time  also  the  Americans 
faced  the  facts  in  regard  to  representation,  and  based 
it  on  manhood.  Through  their  system  of  presidential 
and  congressional  government  they  threw  down  the 
gauntlet  to  the  other  form  of  constitutional  nationality 
— the  parliamentary.  By  interaction  between  the 
two  the  latter  has  been  transformed  into  an  instru- 
ment in  many  respects  more  modern  than  our  own, 
and  admirably  adapted  to  express  political  democracy. 
If  anything,  it  has  become  too  quickly  responsive  to 
popular  clamor. 

The  movements  whereby  England  and  America 
secured  the  embodiment  of  the  national  spirit  in  a 
political  constitution  left  the  continent  of  Europe 
virtually  untouched.  Continental  thought,  however, 
was  in  the  main  more  radical  than  the  thought  of 
either  England  or  America.  The  tension,  therefore, 
was  terrific  and  when  the  equilibrium  was  disturbed 
at  last,  society  disintegrated  in  a  crash.  The  violence, 
confusion,  excesses,  and  impiety,  which  accompanied 
the  convulsion  awakened  a  just  indignation  among 


THE  MODERN  STATE  257 


all  English-speaking  peoples;  but,  nevertheless,  be- 
hind the  horrors,  were  exactly  the  same  principles 
as  those  behind  the  English  and  American  revolutions; 
except  that  now  they  were  more  perfectly  understood 
and  more  thoroughly  applied,  momentarily,  at  least. 
What  we  call  the  French  Revolution  should  really  be 
called  the  revolution  of  1789,  because  it  was  coter- 
minous with  western  Europe.  Unless  the  histories 
of  Spain,  Holland,  Switzerland,  Italy,  Austria,  and 
Germany  are  read  in  the  light  of  that  fact  they  cannot 
be  understood. 

For  a  time  the  revulsion  of  feeling  against  the  in- 
cidents of  this  revolution  was  so  powerful  that  its 
permanent  results  seemed  nil.  But  a  century  later 
we  discover  that  it  was  quite  as  fruitful  as  the  other 
two.  All  governments  now  profess  to  exist  for  the 
welfare  of  the  people:  law,  administration,  personal 
right,  and  local  responsibility,  have  been  unified  in 
scientific  systems.  France,  where  the  consequences 
have  been  the  most  complete  and  logical,  as  its  suffer- 
ings were  the  most  terrible,  is  now  a  centralized,  homo- 
geneous state,  which  is  the  nearest  approach  to  an 
organized  socialism  in  existence.  In  her  there  is  a 
remarkable  correspondence  between  government  and 
nation.  Just  as  what  has  been  called  "the  organic 
arrangement  of  sub-ordinary  authority"  has  secured 
for  France  the  most  perfect  system  of  continental 
government,  so  the  most  scientific  code  of  law — civil, 
criminal,  commercial,  constitutional — thus  far  con- 
structed, was  the  product  of  that  revolution  and  has 
been  everywhere  copied  throughout  civilized  Europe. 
Along  with  these  reforms  went  others  equally  im- 
portant: reforms  of  finance  and  customs  dues,  of 
educational  systems,  and  penology.  The  Roman 
Catholic  Church  of  to-day  in  France,  when  compared 
with  the  Roman  Catholic  Church  of  the  old  regime, 
is  not  recognizable. 


258  THE  MODERN  STATE 


This  is  a  very  broad  outline  of  the  process  so  far 
completed  whereby  the  individual  man  has  struggled 
to  express  his  personality  in  the  state.  The  result  has 
been  the  modern  nation.  The  phrases,  popular  and 
constitutional,  are  now  virtually  identical.  The  con- 
stitution of  a  nation  is  the  body  of  rules  which  con- 
cern its  political  structure.  It  may  be  either  written, 
like  our  own,  or  unwritten,  that  is,  based  on  precedent, 
like  that  of  England.  But  in  either  case  it  shows  us 
where  the  sovereign  power  resides  and  how  it  has  been 
constituted  by  the  people;  what  are  its  means  of  ex- 
pressing itself  and  of  enforcing  its  commands?  A 
constitution  is  in  no  sense  a  contrivance,  a  piece  of 
human  ingenuity  designed  to  effect  good  government: 
it  is  the  crystallized  effort  of  the  collective  people 
to  that  end,  and  is  sacred  only  in  so  far  as  it  is  histori- 
cal. The  English  constitution  is  a  mass  of  fictions, 
names  adopted  when  they  expressed  a  certain  device 
and  were  adequate  designations  of  it;  and  these 
have  been  persistently  retained,  from  a  historical  con- 
servatism, long  after  they  had  lost  their  original 
significance.  Whenever  a  similar  growth  becomes 
impossible  in  the  United  States  we  shall  have  serious 
social  discontent.  The  electoral  college  for  choosing 
a  president,  though  not  utterly  discarded,  we  have 
turned  into  a  mere  formality:  and  rarely,  if  ever,  do 
we  think  of  senators  as  State-ambassadors?  So  far 
our  chief  remedy  for  easing  organic  rigidity  has  been 
the  constant  and  regular  revision  of  the  State  consti- 
tutions. The  fathers  certainly  contemplated  the 
occasional  revision  of  the  federal  constitution  as  well; 
and  that  by  constitutional  convention.  For  this  we 
have  as  yet  felt  no  necessity.  The  method  of  amend- 
ing the  national  constitution  which  they  provided  was 
long  considered  too  complex  and  cumbrous.  Yet 
during  the  century  from  1789  to  1889  it  had  been 
amended  fifteen  times.    Since  then,  cumbrous  as 


THE  MODERN  STATE  259 


the  method  of  amendment  is,  it  has  been  in  almost 
constant  use,  almost  to  the  verge  of  constitutional 
revolution,  and  the  end  is  not  yet.  However,  the 
elasticity  of  American  policy  must  not  be  judged  even 
by  the  comparative  ease  with  which  we  amend  the 
federal  constitution:  to  understand  what  radical 
changes  in  the  point  of  view  our  people  have  under- 
gone during  four  generations  we  must  make  a  com- 
parative study  of  our  state  constitutions.  Under 
them  our  democracy  has  become  even  more  socialistic 
in  certain  important  respects  than  that  of  Great 
Britain. 

The  modern  state,  formed  and  re-formed,  one  vitally 
important  question  still  awaited  settlement:  the  re- 
lation of  the  individual  to  the  sovereignty  of  which  he 
is  both  a  part  and  the  partial  creator.  The  answer 
must  depend  very  largely  on  the  nature  of  the  sover- 
eignty. If  it  be  the  same  old  absolute,  external 
power,  as  so  many  lawyers  indicate  and  believe,  the 
question  of  state  interference  is  just  as  important  as 
it  ever  was ;  and  the  degree  of  such  interference  is  the 
problem  still  as  ever  importunate  for  solution,  because 
all  sane  men  admit  that  some  is  necessary.  If  on  the 
other  hand  the  sovereignty  could  be  simply  the  expres- 
sion of  popular  self-control,  then  its  exercise  would  be 
nothing  else  than  individual  self-discipline.  As  yet 
we  have  advanced  only  a  certain  distance  along  this 
line;  but  we  have  advanced.  Human  nature  is  not 
quite  so  unregenerate  as  it  was;  but  it  is  far  from  per- 
fect; the  increase  of  population  crowds  the  desirable 
portions  of  our  globe  and  nations  struggle  for  pref- 
erence within  them.  Wars  grow  more  and  more 
barbarous  in  their  conduct.  Sovereignty  is  prone  to 
be  imperious  and  autocratic  alike  in  foreign  and 
domestic  affairs.  The  problems  of  the  national  state 
appear  in  its  relations  to  other  national  states  and  to 
its  own  citizens  more  intricate  than  ever;  and  for  that 


26o  THE  MODERN  STATE 


reason  more  difficult  of  adjustment  than  any  which 
have  presented  themselves  to  previous  generations. 

But  appearances  deceive.  Of  one  thing  we  have 
at  last  become  absolutely  certain,  sure  as  we  never 
were  before,  that  only  a  good  man  can  be  a  good  citi- 
zen. The  collective  force  of  goodness  cannot  be  evil. 
Private,  personal,  virtue  was  never  in  the  world's 
history  at  such  a  premium  as  it  has  been  and  is  to-day. 
We  have  come  to  understand  that  it  concerns  not 
merely  the  man  himself,  but  the  society  of  which  he  is 
a  part,  the  race  to  which  he  belongs,  as  it  never  could 
before.  The  modern  nation  is  large;  that  is,  it  in- 
cludes great  numbers  who  have  no  other  tie  than  a 
common  citizenship.  The  larger  the  number  of  men 
the  smaller  the  common  interest  in  religion,  morals, 
thought,  and  occupation;  that  is,  provided  their  per- 
sonality in  these  respects  remains  strong.  The  sphere 
of  organized  authority  and  organized  society  must 
correspond  to  this  common  interest  either  coercively 
or  directively.  The  larger  the  number  of  good  men 
the  greater  the  shrinkage  of  the  coercive  sphere.  In 
an  ideal  state  with  ideal  citizens,  humanly  speaking, 
the  state,  so  far  as  it  expresses  the  personal  self- 
control  of  its  members,  will  do  comparatively  little, 
leaving  the  most  activity  possible  to  persons  or  to 
voluntary  associations  of  persons. 


IX 


THE  NATION  AND  ITS  HOME 

EARTH  AND  MAN — INFLUENCE  OF  THE  PEOPLE  ON  THE  LAND  NATURAL 

BOUNDARIES  AND  SURVEYORS'  LINES — THE  EXERCISE  OF  AUTHORITY — 
SOVEREIGNTY  DEPENDENT  ON  TERRITORY — REACTION  OF  THE  LAND  ON 
ITS  INHABITANTS — THE  LAND  AND  SOCIAL  INSTITUTIONS — INFLUENCE 
OF    NATURAL    RESOURCES — FORMS   OF   LAND   TENURE — LANDLORDISM 

AND  SMALL  HOLDINGS — THE  METAYER  SYSTEM  IN  AMERICA  COLLEC- 

TIVISTS  AND  JOINT  OWNERSHIP — NATIONALIZATION  OF  LAND:  FREE- 
HOLD OWNERSHIP — RELATION  OF  THE  STATE  TO  LAND  TITLES — THE 
LAW  OF  DIMINISHING  RETURNS — DWELLERS  ON  THE  SOIL  IN  RELATION 
TO  ITS  FULL  DEVELOPMENT. 

Inasmuch  as  man  is  unthinkable  without  the  earth 
upon  which  he  dwells,  it  is  clear  that  both  collectively 
and  individually  man  has  the  closest  possible  rela- 
tion with  the  land.  The  nation  in  the  first  place  can- 
not exist  without  the  territorial  sovereignty  over  a 
certain  definite  portion  of  the  earth's  surface :  and  as 
for  the  individual,  the  land,  either  by  what  it  pro- 
duces on  its  surface  or  by  what  it  gives  forth  from  be- 
neath, furnishes  both  the  material  of  his  sustenance 
and  the  products  upon  which  he  expends  his  labor. 
In  the  long  struggle  by  which  the  modern  nation  has 
been  created,  the  land  has  been  the  stage;  men  the 
actors  upon  it.  Just  as  our  constitutions  are  the  ex- 
pression of  a  long  bitter  experience  in  elevating  the 
individual,  just  as  the  nation  is  the  result  of  common 
suffering,  common  effort,  by  men  capable  of  choice 
and  free  to  exercise  it,  so  the  relations  of  man  and 
men  to  their  home  is  the  outcome  of  the  same  inces- 
sant, never-ending  endeavor  to  make  the  person  freest 
while  making  the  nation  strongest  to  secure  the  liber- 
ties, not  of  one,  but  of  all.  Moreover,  no  one  any 
longer  doubts  that  the  nature  of  land  has  much  in- 
fluence on  the  character  of  those  who  dwell  on  it. 
It  was  maintained  by  Buckle  in  an  epoch-making 

261 


262      THE  NATION  AND  ITS  HOME 


book  that  this  influence  was  purely  physical ;  and  de- 
terminative, according  to  an  assumed  uniformity  of 
nature  which  is  styled  law.  A  decreasing  but  still 
numerous  body  of  writers  follow  his  lead.  But  the 
facts  of  history  utterly  refute  this  doctrine.  We  may 
conceive  of  a  low  human  type  almost  entirely  depen- 
dent on  its  physical  environment,  but  there  are  no 
instances  of  such  as  a  historic  force.  What  we  know 
from  history  is  that  in  the  very  dawn  of  civilization 
man  had  a  mastery  over  nature  which  enabled  him  to 
spread  over  the  globe,  and  not  remain  confined,  like  the 
anthropoid  apes,  within  a  very  narrow  habitat.  He 
already  crossed  mountains  and  streams,  sailed  the  seas 
and  used  the  winds,  compelled  the  forests  to  give  him 
shelter,  and  the  beasts  to  carry  his  burdens.  And  as 
we  follow  him  but  little  further  we  find  him  better 
and  better  equipped  to  cope  with  any  conditions  in 
which  he  finds  himself;  what  seem  obstacles  are 
really  nothing  but  incentives  to  action.  The  actual 
influence  of  nature  upon  man  lies  in  the  effect  upon  his 
spiritual  being  produced  by  climate,  and  the  general 
characteristics  of  that  part  of  the  earth  in  which  he 
lives.  He  may  be  enervated  by  heat  and  moisture, 
stimulated  by  moderate  severity  of  climate,  depressed 
by  the  disproportionate  dimensions  of  mountains  and 
seas  about  him,  or  nerved  to  his  best  exertions  by  the 
sense  that,  though  mighty,  they  can  be  overcome. 
The  rains  from  heaven  may  be  refused  to  the  crops 
he  has  planted,  can  he  supply  their  absence  by  irriga- 
tion? Distances  are  long,  communications  are  dif- 
ficult, can  they  be  overcome  by  ingenuity?  It  is 
self-evident  that  in  the  advance  of  man  his  ability  has 
been  directly  proportionate  to  the  task  he  has  felt 
he  must  perform.  Vice  versa,  in  countries  where 
life  requires  but  little  exertion  and  no  ingenuity  at 
all,  the  inhabitants  appear  to  put  forth  neither  the 
one  nor  the  other. 


THE  NATION  AND  ITS  HOME  263 


These  facts  have  greatly  modified  the  relations  of  a 
nation  to  its  territory.  In  our  day  that  relation  has 
been  fixed,  first  for  the  lands  and  peoples  of  the  tem- 
perate zones,  and  then,  with  the  expansion  of  those 
nations,  transferred  to  the  whole  earth,  a  few  portions 
of  Europe  and  Asia  being  now  the  only  exceptions. 
Everywhere  else  there  are  or  are  intended  to  be  fixed 
boundaries  settled  by  natural  configuration  or  the 
imaginary  lines  of  the  surveyor.  So  completely  is  the 
enclosure  dominated  by  the  nation  and  the  nationality, 
that  the  land  itself  is  often  styled  a  sovereignty.  Now 
sovereignty  is  the  exercise  of  an  absolute,  perpetual, 
political  power.  There  is  no  authority  above  it: 
but  it  has  relations  to  its  subjects  and  to  other  states 
which  determine  its  character.  It  is  the  fulness  of 
collective  power,  one  and  supreme,  yet  constitutional 
and  popular.  We  commonly  say  that  sovereignty  be- 
longs to  the  people:  We,  the  people,  decree  and  de- 
clare, etc.,  etc.,  and  yet  "We,  the  people"  are  very 
little  concerned  to  understand  what  that  means.  The 
Rousseauists  believed  that  the  sovereignty  of  the  peo- 
ple was  resident  in  atoms,  one  in  each  citizen,  that 
each  might  delegate  his  share  for  a  purpose  to  the 
general  assembly  of  the  whole  people,  but  only  for 
that  one  purpose;  that  he  might  withdraw  it  at  will 
and  make  anarchy  when  he  chose. 

Our  forefathers  were  accustomed  to  an  assembly 
of  equal  citizens  where  each  man  gave  expression  to  his 
opinion;  and  the  general  will  was  expressed  by  the 
majority.  This  idea,  if  applied  to  large  numbers,  de- 
feats itself;  for  the  masters  of  the  great  concourse 
are  the  orator  and  the  demagogue.  It  was  Rous- 
seau's idea  of  popular  sovereignty  which  in  1792  in- 
troduced the  theory  on  which  the  French  Convention 
acted.  It  was  in  a  sense  a  representative  body,  yet 
it  was  the  worst  tyrant  known  to  French  history; 
and  justified,  in  word  and  act,  the  Red  Terror,  model 


264      THE  NATION  AND  ITS  HOME 


for  the  Russian  "Terror"  masquerading  as  a  govern- 
ment, the  orgy  of  massacre  and  robbery  which  suc- 
ceeded the  overthrow  of  a  debilitated  autocracy.  In 
every  true  democracy  of  national  dimensions,  whether 
direct  or  representative,  the  supreme  power  must  be 
exercised  by  one  or  more  officials,  that  is  indirectly; 
officials,  therefore,  being  but  comparatively  few  in 
number,  the  minority  in  actual  practice  rules  the  ma- 
jority, for  in  theory  rulers  and  ruled  are  equal.  This 
seems  to  explain  why  the  discontented  are  always 
appealing  to  reason  and  justice  as  against  the  sover- 
eign: and  why  they  feel  that  the  nation  as  an  organ- 
ized unit  can  alone  develop  the  concept  of  sovereignty 
which  is  unfolded  in  the  state;  and  why  also  we  now 
generally  prefer  the  expression  national  sovereignty 
to  any  other.  In  every  constitutional  society  there  is 
a  first  citizen,  president  or  king,  who  with  the  repre- 
sentative assembly  exercises,  for  a  longer  or  shorter 
time,  sovereignty  as  the  concentrated  power  of  the 
people :  sovereignty  expressed  in  the  law,  sovereignty 
expressed  in  administering  the  law.  The  distinction 
is  evasive  and  very  fine,  but  none  the  less  real  and 
important. 

Thus  is  created  an  organism  which  in  the  last 
analysis  is  dependent  on  territory.  The  majesty 
of  a  sovereign  virtually  consists  in  the  sovereign's 
independence  of  other  sovereigns:  in  there  being  a 
large  population  able  to  exist  on  its  own  territory  and 
defend  itself;  able  above  all  else  to  determine  its  own 
form  of  government  without  the  intervention  of  any 
external  power.  If  a  change  be  necessary  the  organ- 
ism which  framed  legislature  and  administration  can, 
under  most  conditions,  change  both  without  revolu- 
tion, that  is  by  reform,  according  to  the  spirit  of  the 
constitution.  Here  again  there  can  be  no  question 
of  intervention,  no  trespass  on  the  land,  no  compulsion 
by  foreign  force.    Sometimes,  however,  changes  can 


THE  NATION  AND  ITS  HOME  265 


be  effected  only  by  revolution,  that  is  by  the  violation 
of  public  law  and  the  overthrow  of  constituted  au- 
thority, by  framing  a  law  new  in  form  and  in  spirit, 
and  by  the  choice  of  new  men  to  administer  it.  Here 
again  the  question  of  territory  is  determinative.  If 
the  revolution  be  so  complete  that  it  amounts  to  dis- 
solution, the  foreigner  must  step  in  both  in  his  own 
interest  and  in  that  of  mankind,  including  the  revolu- 
tionaries. But  if  it  be  a  revolution  such  that  any  one 
party  to  it  can  assert  and  maintain  the  territorial 
rights  of  the  nation,  either  by  preserving  a  certain 
degree  of  order  within  the  territorial  boundaries  or 
maintaining  a  force  sufficient  to  defend  them,  the 
identity  of  the  nation,  though  enfeebled,  continues 
to  exist.  We  may  conclude  therefore  that  as  regards 
the  nation  its  very  existence  in  a  constitutional  sense 
depends  ultimately  upon  the  land  within  which  its 
personality,  as  expressed  by  the  prevalence  of  its 
laws,  can  maintain  itself.  The  nation  is  in  this  re- 
gard like  the  man :  he  is  unthinkable  without  a  stand- 
ing or  "stamping  ground"  and  without  a  certain  num- 
ber of  cubic  feet  in  space  which  he  occupies  to  the  ex- 
clusion of  all  others.  A  nation  cannot  exist  without 
defined  relations  to  a  definite  territory. 

When  such  a  territory  has  been  secured  the  reflex 
action  of  the  land  upon  the  people  begins,  or  rather 
two  processes  which  have  to  be  considered  apart, 
begin  a  coincident  interaction.  The  physical  geogra- 
phy of  our  own  land  shows  us  four  distinct  districts: 
the  Atlantic  coast,  the  Mississippi  valley,  the  Rocky 
mountains  with  their  foot-hills,  and  the  Pacific  coast. 
The  nation  was  at  first  confined  to  the  first  of  these 
districts  and,  such  were  the  conditions  of  settlement 
as  autonomous  colonies,  that  we  had  a  great  struggle 
to  secure  even  partial  union  within  its  limits.  But 
the  increase  of  population  threw  large  numbers  of 
kinsfolk  into  the  Mississippi  valley,  which  is  naturally 


266      THE  NATION  AND  ITS  HOME 


so  constituted  as  to  be  incapable  of  division  and  at 
the  same  time  of  beneficent  occupation;  especially 
as  when  in  early  times  the  river-system  formed  its 
great  highways.  Social  and  political  union  of  some 
sort  having  been  thus  fixed,  it  was  more  perfectly  con- 
solidated by  the  introduction  and  extension  of  rail- 
roads. These  being  in  large  measure  independent  of 
natural  configuration  welded  the  bonds  firmly  and 
permanently  as  far  as  union  was  then  possible.  This 
done,  we  proceeded  in  our  restless  way  to  secure  the 
high  plains  and  peaks  of  the  Rockies ;  a  dry  and  arid 
land,  but  responsive  to  irrigation  for  agricultural  pur- 
poses and  abounding  in  mineral  wealth,  as  a  field 
for  further  enterprise.  The  next  step  was  to  follow 
the  Columbia  river  to  its  mouth  and  to  secure  the  easy 
prize  of  the  Pacific  coast  almost  without  a  blow.  No 
wonder  that  we  believed  in  manifest  destiny. 

Meantime  the  question  of  African  slavery  had  be- 
come acute  within  the  land  earlier  united  under  one 
national  sway.  This  tension  was  due  in  almost  equal 
parts  to  territory  and  human  ingenuity.  Climate 
made  the  negro  comfortable  in  the  southern  belt  of 
territory  and  made  cotton  grow  abundantly  therein: 
human  ingenuity  created  the  Whitney  cotton-gin, 
which  made  cotton-raising  profitable.  Slavery  died 
a  natural  death  in  the  North,  it  throve  like  a  rank 
weed  in  the  South.  The  consequence  was  civil  war: 
and  the  outcome  of  that  awful  struggle  was  largely 
determined  by  the  Allegheny  mountains,  which  pro- 
jected their  high  plains  down  into  the  very  heart 
of  the  warm  lowlands.  On  these  was  a  large  popula- 
tion which,  neither  owning  slaves  nor  tolerant  of  slav- 
ery, heartily  disliked  the  seaboard  planters  and  had 
no  sympathy  with  their  ambitions.  The  absence  of 
a  transverse  mountain  chain  kept  the  path  open  for 
the  invading  armies  to  whom  they  were  not  seriously, 
if  at  all,  hostile. 


THE  NATION  AND  ITS  HOME  267 


Our  subsequent  history  has  in  part  been  determined 
by  the  locahty  of  our  three  great  sources  of  natural 
wealth:  lumber,  mining,  and  agriculture.  The  last 
has  given  its  specific  character  of  buoyancy,  hope, 
and  enterprise  to  the  middle  west,  because  of  the  un- 
exampled fertility  of  the  soil.  The  mining  interests 
of  the  silver  states  have  at  times  seriously  influenced 
our  currency  problems.  The  eastern  states  and  the 
great  cities  scattered  far  and  near  have  cherished 
manufactures  and  commerce  so  as  to  create  another 
class  of  interests.  With  a  great  uniformity  we  have 
thus  secured  enough  diversity  to  prevent  stagnation. 
The  physical  boundaries  of  our  realm  are  two  oceans 
and  two  comparatively  feeble  land  powers,  so  that 
the  question  of  foreign  relations  on  this  continent  has 
scarcely  arisen  to  disturb  us.  With  Europe  and 
South  America  we  have  had  a  continuous  reciprocity 
of  relations  and  also  with  the  farthest  east;  but  the 
broad  oceans  on  either  hand  have  given  to  these  a 
character  separate  from  those  between  European  na- 
tions. There  being  no  possibility  of  doubt  as  to  the 
influence  of  its  homelands  upon  our  own  people,  it  is 
almost  superfluous  to  say  that  other  nations  have 
found  their  habitat  and  its  boundaries  enormously  in- 
fluential in  shaping  their  national  character  and  the 
destinies  of  their  people.  One  example  suffices,  ours 
is  not  an  exceptional  experience. 

Having  thus  outlined  the  relation  of  the  nation  as 
a  whole  to  its  territory,  we  must  turn  to  see  what 
that  of  the  individual  to  the  land  is,  or  ought  to  be. 
The  history  of  land  ownership  is  well  known :  first  the 
tribe,  then  the  village,  and  finally  the  individual. 
Some  appurtenances  of  the  land  are  still  held  in  com- 
mon: fisheries,  the  shore  as  far  as  high-water  mark, 
ferry  privileges;  even  the  game  which  ranges  inland 
except  so  far  as  the  owner  of  the  land  may  defend 
himself  against  trespass  by  special  legislation;  and 


268      THE  NATION  AND  ITS  HOME 


above  all  the  right  of  eminent  domain  exercised  by 
the  state  for  the  general  good.  Of  village  tenure 
there  are  still  perfect  survivals  in  Ceylon,  in  Russia, 
even  in  the  canton  Valais  in  Switzerland  and  in  the 
Ardennes  forest  of  Belgium:  of  manorial  rights  there 
are  numerous  shreds  embodied  in  our  own  laws.  As 
population  multiplied  the  village  retained  its  posses- 
sion of  what  could  most  profitably  be  enjoyed  in 
common,  pasture  and  forest,  for  example;  assigning 
to  families  a  fixed  share  in  the  arable  soil.  With  the 
still  further  increase  in  population  either  the  com- 
munity sought  broader  possessions  and  emigrated  or 
it  divided  and  a  portion  went  elsewhere;  or  else  many 
being  left  with  no  share  of  tillable  land,  private  owner- 
ship ensued,  and  the  rest  worked  for  hire.  This  was 
the  state  of  things  in  England  just  prior  to  the  Nor- 
man conquest.  William  the  Conqueror  virtually 
claimed  as  his  own,  under  the  twofold  right  of  con- 
quest and  feudal  suzerainty  substantially  all  the  land 
of  England.  Eventually  every  land-owner  in  England 
came,  according  to  the  theory  of  the  law,  to  hold  un- 
der the  king  as  tenant  and  in  Scotland  as  vassal.  The 
English  law-makers  have  been  busy  for  centuries 
breaking  down  the  feudal  fictions  and  at  last  they 
have  secured  for  owners  the  indefeasible  right  of  ab- 
solute ownership  either  by  freehold  or[copyhold.  The 
former  traces  title  to  the  crown,  the  latter  to  the  lord 
of  the  manor;  in  both,  slight  services,  fixed  either  by 
custom  or  by  statute,  have  to  be  rendered  on  occasion. 
Nevertheless  the  large  estates  of  feudalism  survived 
and  through  a  system  of  entail  have  continued  to 
exist.  On  them  were  men  who  are  styled  tenants  at 
will,  holding  under  the  owner's  pleasure,  subject  to  his 
caprice  or  interest  in  the  matter  of  ejectment  from 
their  farms  and  dwellings. 

This  class  long  resided  unmolested,  but  when  in  the 
fourteenth  century,  owing  to  the  development  of 


THE  NATION  AND  ITS  HOME.  269 


manufactures,  wool  became  the  staple  of  England, 
the  landlords  turned  their  ploughed  fields  into  pas- 
tures and  dismissed  their  tenants.  This  created  great 
distress  and  destroyed  the  invaluable  middle-class  of 
English  yeomen.  Remedial  legislation  was  attempted, 
but  in  vain ;  and  thenceforward  the  tendency  has  been 
for  the  great  proprietor  to  round  out  his  estate  by  the 
purchase  of  small  freeholds  until  now  about  one  per- 
son in  a  hundred  owns  an  acre  of  land.  The  system, 
therefore,  is  essentially  one  of  landlordism,  and  for 
reasons  which  we  have  no  time  to  trace  the  same  thing 
occurred  in  both  Scotland  and  Ireland:  to  a  worse 
degree.  Such  were  the  scandals  of  absentee  landlord- 
ism in  Ireland  that  forty  years  ago  a  process  of  ad- 
mirable reform  began  which  is  still  under  way.  There 
has  been  slowly  created  in  that  island  a  large  class  of 
prosperous,  small  farmers  owning  their  own  plots  and 
thriving  admirably.  The  feudalism  of  England  being 
purely  artificial,  was  more  complete  than  in  either 
France  or  Germany,  its  natural  home.  In  both  those 
lands  it  was  possible  for  reforms  to  be  made  which  in- 
creased enormously  the  number  of  freeholders,  a  class 
which,  there,  had  never  entirely  ceased  to  exist.  In 
the  greater  part  of  continental  Europe,  therefore, 
while  there  are  many  large  estates  there  are  many 
more  small  ones,  cultivated  by  the  owner  and  his 
children;  the  surplus  of  population  has  so  far  been 
disposed  of  by  emigration.  Small  estates  are  also 
far  more  numerous  than  large  ones,  both  in  the  Brit- 
ish colonies  and  in  our  own  land.  Until  very  re- 
cently "Uncle  Sam  was  rich  enough  to  give  us  all  a 
farm"  of  160  acres  provided  we  agreed  to  bring  it 
under  cultivation  within  five  years,  according  to  the 
homestead  laws. 

The  supply  of  our  best  public  lands  is  now  virtu- 
ally exhausted:  desert,  stumpage,  and  swamp  there 
is  in  rich  abundance;  irrigation,  drainage,  and  the 


270      THE  NATION  AND  ITS  HOME 


"caterpillar"  stump-puller  will  eventually  make  that 
enormous  acreage  available  for  homesteading  in  small 
estates,  likewise;  we  may  expect  the  prevalence  of 
small  and  smaller  holdings  for  generations  to  come. 
There  is  a  similar  situation  in  Canada,  Australia,  and 
the  Cape  colonies  of  South  Africa.  We  have  hitherto 
had  no  acute  land  question  such  as  disturbs  western 
Europe:  with  energy  and  foresight  we  may  escape  one 
for  some  generations.  But  there  is  already  a  menace. 
The  earlier  homesteaders  now  rent  their  fertile  lands 
to  later  immigrants  of  a  distinctly  lower  social  type 
than  themselves.  This  metayer  system  is  not  only 
unthrifty,  but  creates  a  class  of  semi-serfs  dangerous 
to  our  republican-democratic  system  of  government. 
The  real  American  frontiersman,  finding  himself  on 
the  verge  of  a  rainless  belt,  has  been  stunned  and 
amazed;  he  first  called  in  the  quack  rain-maker,  then 
he  set  his  hopes  on  the  occult  influence  of  newly  built 
railroads  as  producers  of  rain,  then  he  practised  "dry- 
farming"  to  suck  its  little  moisture  from  the  thirsty 
air,  and  then  he  dug  irrigation  wells,  dams,  and  ditches, 
a  costly  resort.  Not  one  of  these  shifts  has  entirely 
met  the  situation;  population  grows  apace,  and  a 
serious  land  question  looms  darkly  on  the  American 
horizon.  Furthermore  the  overcrowding  of  our  great 
cities  either  by  the  rush  of  country  population  to  share 
in  their  mercantile  and  commercial  prosperity,  or  else 
by  the  deposit  in  them  of  human  dregs  from  European 
immigration,  has  tended  to  intensify  interest  in  the 
land  question  of  cities;  it  is  the  chief  cause  of  the 
swift  appreciation  of  values  in  some  districts  and  the 
slower  but  sure  depreciation  in  others:  that  "un- 
earned increment"  which  has  so  occupied  economists 
of  the  single-taxer  type.  The  equally  undeserved 
decrement  in  land  values  has  not  interested  them. 

We  find  ourselves,  therefore,  an  integral  portion  of 
the  great  social  movement  of  the  world,  no  longer  as 


THE  NATION  AND  ITS  HOME  271 


a  picket  or  an  outpost,  but  as  a  part  of  the  main 
column.  Agitation,  constant  agitation,  as  to  the  re- 
lation of  the  individual  to  the  land  is  one  of  the  fea- 
tures in  our  own  modern  national  life,  as  it  is  else- 
where. Every  extreme  of  theory,  together  with  all 
possible  intermediate  doctrines,  concerning  the  power 
of  the  nation  to  use  the  land  for  the  common  good  is 
now  held  by  various  groups  in  the  United  States.  The 
most  imaginative  and  sanguine  speculators  see  the 
approach  in  the  near  future  of  a  time  when  each  man 
shall  be,  not  for  himself,  but  for  others,  and  all  for 
the  nation:  under  some  form  of  coercion,  it  must  be 
remarked,  moral  if  possible,  otherwise  legal  and  forci- 
ble !  These  are  the  collectivists,  as  we  generally  style 
them,  who  demand  a  joint  ownership  of  all  land  or  its 
equivalent;  and  expect  the  land  to  bear  most  if  not 
all  the  burdens  of  organized  society.  They  would 
return  to  primitive  conditions  as  they  claim:  but  in 
reality  they  are  not  reactionists  at  all.  In  their  ex- 
treme development  they  substitute  visions  of  what 
they  want  for  something  in  the  past  which  was  quite 
different.  Their  communism  is  based  upon  a  human 
perfection  in  self-restraint  not  yet  attained  but  which 
they  expect  to  reach  by  the  compulsion  of  what  they 
designate  the  social  conscience  in  stern  control  of  the 
individual  conscience. 

The  nationalization  of  the  land  is  a  proposition 
based  on  the  false  assumption  that  the  land  either 
once  was,  or  has  by  the  force  of  organic  effort  become, 
the  property  of  the  community  as  a  whole.  This 
purely  fictitious  common  right  must,  according  to  the 
anarchists,  be  asserted  either  by  force,  and,  if  need 
be,  the  destruction  of  organized  society:  or  else,  ac- 
cording to  the  nationalists,  by  purchase,  or  a  radical 
change  in  the  system  of  taxation.  Difficulties  there 
are  to  be  overcome:  adjustment  of  price  or  real  value 
to  the  capital  and  labor  essential  to  make  the  purchase 


272      THE  NATION  AND  ITS  HOME 


a  good  bargain,  and  continuous  readjustment  accord- 
ing to  the  capricious  movement  of  population.  These 
difficulties  once  overcome  some  nationahsts  would  re- 
lease the  land  to  its  former  owners  and  apply  the  ren- 
tal to  extinguishing  taxation.  Others  seeing  the  mani- 
fest injustice  of  preferring  one  class  to  another  in  be- 
stowing such  a  privilege  would  create  the  largest  pos- 
sible number  of  very  small  farms  or  peasant  holdings. 
Unfortunately  for  such  a  plan,  small  farmers  are  al- 
ready well  supplied  and  there  is  no  class  in  sight  which 
desires  to  become  peasants.  Even  our  immigrant 
metayers  of  the  middle  west  cherish  as  their  one  am- 
bition freehold  ownership  of  the  land  which  they  till 
on  shares.  There  are  also  the  apparently  insoluble 
questions  as  to  the  relative  value  of  farming  on  the 
large  or  small  scale,  which  enter  in  to  complicate  the 
problems  of  the  compulsory  purchase  or  confiscation, 
and  the  redistribution,  of  the  land. 

It  is  not  unnatural  that  in  view  of  such  chimeras 
there  should  be  a  class  of  hard-headed,  common- 
sensible  people  who  go  to  the  opposite  extreme. 
They  have  observed  that  Aristotle's  dictum:  "Care- 
fulness is  least  in  that  which  is  common  to  most,  since 
men  take  thought  in  the  chief  place  for  their  own  and 
less  for  the  common  stock,"  is  just  as  destructive  of 
communism  in  land  as  of  every  other  form,  except  the 
communism  of  friendship  and  philanthropy.  Private 
ownership  of  land  increases  its  fertility,  since  it  is  the 
interest  of  the  owner  to  make  it  yield  the  greatest 
return  both  to  himself  and  his  family.  Robbery  of 
the  soil,  that  is,  stripping  its  fertility  in  order  to  secure 
immediate  returns  beyond  its  regular  capacity,  is  a 
procedure  only  too  common  among  renters  and  com- 
munal tillers.  Since  the  soil  yields  the  food,  clothing, 
fuel,  and  raw  materials  of  manufacture  to  the  nation, 
the  more  it  is  made  to  yield  steadily,  year  by  year, 
the  more  the  nation  thrives.    This  is  the  conservative 


THE  NATION  AND  ITS  HOME  273 


conclusion  and  therefore  the  nation  must  not  interfere 
with  private  ownership.  This  view  has  in  the  United 
States  led  to  many  wholesome  measures,  making  the 
transfer  of  land  by  legal  process  both  easy  and  cheap ; 
and  creating  an  intense  jealousy  about  the  exercise 
of  eminent  domain,  as  a  public  right.  It  is,  neverthe- 
less, true  that  whether  we  think  of  property  as  ante- 
cedent to  the  state  and  of  the  state  as  existing  for  the 
purpose  of  safeguarding  it;  or,  whether  we  think  of 
property  as  possible  only  through  national  association, 
in  the  last  analysis  we  admit  that  property  is  somehow 
dependent  on  the  state.  In  consequence  of  this  fact 
the  state  has  from  immemorial  times  interfered  with 
private  ownership  and  will  continue  to  do  so  in  the 
interest  of  itself  and  the  individual.  Who  supports  a 
title  derived  from  occupation  ?  The  state.  Or  a  title 
derived  from  labor,  in  that  the  regular  desired  suc- 
cession of  personal  property  is  guaranteed?  Again 
the  national  state.  Apparently  within  such  limits  as 
public  opinion  will  permit,  the  national  state  in  its 
authorized  sovereignty  will  continue  to  lay  hands  on 
private  ownership  in  land,  as  likewise  in  chattels 
goods,  and  the  like,  for  the  benefit  of  the  public. 

Between  these  two  perfectly  simple  views  the  econo- 
mists have  interjected  a  third  class  of  considerations, 
based  on  what  they  call  the  law  of  diminishing  returns 
in  land,  or  rather  of  diminishing  production  from  land, 
viz.,  that  every  successive  application  of  capital  to 
land  must  be  less  productive  than  the  former.  If 
this  be  true,  it  is,  of  course,  an  end  of  nationalization ; 
for  nationalization  would  mean  national  bankruptcy 
and  suicide.  But  it  is  only  true  provided  knowledge 
and  skill  do  not  increase  proportionately:  the  ap- 
parently sufficient  refutation  lies  in  the  fact  that  with 
the  advance  of  knowledge  and  skill  proportionate  to 
the  advance  in  society,  capital  can  be  as  remunera- 
tively invested  in  land  as  in  any  other  enterprise 


274       THE  NATION  AND  ITS  HOME 


and  that  probably  this  will  continue  to  be  so.  This 
would  assure  stability  in  private  tenure  of  the  soil  and 
only  this.  If  the  law  were  a  law,  in  time  there  would 
be  no  capital  to  invest  in  land  and  the  land  would 
refuse  to  perform  its  functions  either  for  the  person 
or  for  the  nation.  The  only  remedy  would  be  the 
restriction  of  population. 

The  result  of  human  experience,  so  far,  seems  to 
be  that  the  least  possible  interference  with  private 
ownership,  including  both  the  unforeseen  decrement 
of  land  values  and  the  unearned  increment  as  well, 
the  surface  and  mineral  resources  also,  is  the  strong- 
est guarantee  for  the  present  stability  and  future 
advance  of  society.  Further,  that  those  who  live  on 
the  land  should  develop  and  till  it;  and  not  employ 
uninterested  labor  or  supervision:  that  the  nation 
should,  with  needed  and  rare  exceptions,  discourage 
large  estates,  in  order  to  secure  a  proper  proportion 
of  man  to  the  soil,  both  as  owner  and  tiller:  or,  if  that 
be  difficult,  at  least  to  secure  that  the  owner  should 
have  a  joint  interest  with  the  tiller  in  the  capital  in- 
vested. The  curse  of  the  small  farmer  is  the  money- 
lender; the  mortgageor  is  more  soulless  than  the 
landlord.  The  latter  is  at  least  a  man,  the  former  is 
too  often  a  corporation.  There  is  already  in  opera- 
tion a  system  of  state  loans  on  the  security  of  land,  the 
"credit  foncier,"  corresponding  to  the  "credit  mobi- 
lier"  or  loans  on  chattels  and  personal  property.  The 
tendency  is  to  extend  it.  Why?  The  law  at  present 
favors  equal  subdivision  of  land  among  children  and 
reprobates  the  appropriation  of  great  tracts  for  pur- 
poses of  luxury:  government  guarantee  of  land  loans 
runs  counter  to  this  wise  policy. 


X 


THE  NATION  AND  THE  PEOPLE 

HETEROGENEOUS  ELEMENTS  IN  THE  MODERN  NATION  ENORMOUS  TERRI- 
TORY AND  ENORMOUS  POPULATION — DESIRE  FOR  LEAST  GOVERNMENT, 
UNIVERSAL  SUFFRAGE,  AND  STATE  INTERFERENCE — POPULAR  SELF- 
CONTROL  BY  A  people's  OTHER  SELF  ABUSE  OF  STATE  PROTECTION  BY 

POLITOCRATS — RESTRICTION  OF  IMMIGRATION — PROTECTION  AGAINST 
DEGENERACY  CONGESTION  OF  POPULATION  CHARACTER  OF  IMMIGRA- 
TION— NATURALIZATION  LAWS — REFORM  DEMANDED,  NOT  REVOLUTION 
— IMPROVIDENT  MARRIAGES — THE  MORAL  REMEDY  FOR  THREATENING 
DANGERS — THE  MENACE  OF  EXTREME  SOCIALISM  AND  ANARCHY — THE 
SPHERE  OF  STATE  INTERFERENCE  IN  SOCIETY — LEGISLATION  AS  AN 
ART  DIFFERENT  FROM  THE  SCIENCE  OF  LEGISLATION — RELIGION  AND 
THE  MODERN  NATION  REMEDIAL  AND  DIRECTIVE  LEGISLATION. 

The  inhabitants  of  a  civilized  land  in  modern  times 
have  not  of  necessity  those  connections  of  real  or 
imaginary  kinship,  near  or  remote,  of  common  super- 
stition and  common  faith,  which  once  entered  into  the 
constitution  of  a  people.  The  common  interest,  ma- 
terial and  moral,  has  come  to  be  understood  as  the 
bond  of  nationality,  just  as  a  common  spiritual  in- 
terest unites  its  members  in  the  same  ecclesiastical 
organization.  The  national  interest  can  only  exist 
in  a  propinquity  sufficient  to  create  human  relations; 
and  where  that  propinquity  exists,  it  sooner  or  later 
takes  the  place  of  every  other  tie  which  binds  men 
together.  Our  double  duty  is  to  God  and  our  neigh- 
bor. One  of  the  essential  qualities  of  modern  life  is 
its  scope:  the  increase  of  interests  through  the  print- 
ing-press and  the  ease  of  communication,  the  enlarge- 
ment of  territorial  dimensions  through  the  expansion 
of  enterprise  in  the  interchange  of  products,  the  en- 
largement of  wants  and  consumption  by  the  individual, 
with  the  wide-spread  distribution  of  commodities,  the 
swelling  dimensions  of  population  within  national 

275 


276     THE  NATION  AND  THE  PEOPLE 


limits:  not  only  the  size  already  attained,  but  the 
persistent  tendency  toward  aggrandizement,  the  eager- 
ness for  influence  and  territory.  So  it  has  come  about 
that  birth,  blood,  and  religion  have  constantly  less 
and  less  importance  in  the  make-up  of  a  people  and 
that  the  heterogeneous  elements  among  any  given 
people  attract  less  and  less  attention  by  their  presence 
as  the  demands  occupy  more  and  more  the  thoughts 
of  their  rulers.  While  land  and  capital  sufficient  for 
their  sustenance  are  abundant  it  never  occurs  to  any 
one  to  object  to  the  presence  of  civilized  men  of  any 
Caucasian  race  or  speech. 

It  is  evident  that  any  organism,  especially  a  political 
one,  will  express  the  characteristics  of  those  who  made 
it  and  for  whom  it  exists :  it  is  also  evident  and  clear 
that  its  relations  to  the  people  under  it,  more  or  less 
numerous,  more  or  less  extended,  are  in  proportion 
to  the  homogeneity  of  that  people.  Diversity  in 
occupation  and  interest  must  also  arise  in  a  high 
degree  just  as  the  advance  from  simplicity  to  complex- 
ity goes  on,  even  within  the  most  homogeneous  peo- 
ple ;  and  the  larger  the  territory  in  extent  the  more  this 
divergency  will  be  accentuated.  It  seems  therefore 
as  if  within  the  modern  nation  the  greatest  possibility 
of  individual  variety  were  included  and  that  there- 
fore the  action  of  the  national  state  must  be  limited 
within  the  smallest  possible  sphere.  We  invite  the 
largest  conceivable  population  by  emphasizing  the 
virtue  of  large  families,  by  protecting  the  young,  the 
feeble,  and  the  incapable,  against  suffering  and  death ; 
and  until  very  recently  by  putting  a  premium  upon 
immigration  of  the  most  stupendous  dimensions. 
This  population  we  provide  with  a  home  containing 
3,000,000  square  miles  and  about  as  diverse  in  climate, 
physical  configuration  and  productive  quality,  every 
way  in  fact,  as  we  can  well  imagine.  What  is  to  be 
the  relation  of  the  national  state  to  this  people  which 


THE  NATION  AND  THE  PEOPLE  277 


has  constituted  and  supports  it  ?  If  the  ratio  of  in- 
crease in  our  population  continues  another  century 
will  see  it  numbering  350,000,000,  about  that  of  China; 
with  only  three-fourths  of  the  area.  Can  the  modern 
nation  retain  its  characteristics  and  contain  so  many 
persons  ? 

While  as  a  people  we  are  not  given  to  political  theor- 
izing we  have  undoubtedly  acted  upon  certain  pre- 
sumptions which  are  peculiar  to  ourselves.  Being 
at  the  outset  a  nation  of  political  and  religious  dis- 
senters, that  is,  in  the  main  composed  of  those  who 
were  avowed  enemies  of  traditional  views  concerning 
church  and  state,  we  brought  with  us  little  respect  for 
the  ancient  constitutions  of  either,  ecclesiasticism  be- 
ing our  greatest  bugbear  and  absolutism  corres- 
spondingly  our  scarecrow.  As  a  result  we  have  never 
stood  in  awe  of  the  state  nor  attributed  any  sacrosanct 
character  to  its  officials.  We  predicate  certain  rights 
and  live  under  a  constitution  which  expresses  our 
historical  experience  in  safeguarding  them.  Office 
is  merely  a  trust,  officials  of  every  description  are  dele- 
gates or  agents,  and  local  self-government  is  the  de- 
pository of  most  which  concerns  our  daily  lives.  Only 
those  functions  which  can  best  be  exercised  by  state 
and  federal  governments  are  entrusted  to  them. 
Since  we  have  no  other  means  of  reaching  a  decision 
the  majority  rules  and  the  only  right  which  a  minority 
has  is  to  turn  itself  into  a  majority.  The  less  govern- 
ment does  and  the  more  individuals  do,  the  whole- 
somer  and  the  saner  will  the  nation  be.  This  state 
of  things  is  partly  the  reason  why  individuals  have  so 
long  continued  to  wish  the  least  interference  with  their 
affairs;  but  the  fact  that  we  have  such  independence 
of  spirit  as  individuals  is  the  very  reason  why  we 
created  such  a  state  of  affairs.  The  man  and  his 
environment  react  upon  each  other.  Under  this  sys- 
tem we  have  increased  self-knowledge  in  politics, 


278     THE  NATION  AND  THE  PEOPLE 


trained  the  individual  into  finer  perceptions  and  given 
such  resources  of  comfort  and  even  luxury  to  private 
hfe  that  public  life  is  at  a  discount;  and  cultivated 
men,  for  the  most  part,  desire  seclusion  rather  than 
the  distinction  of  public  life. 

Public  spirit  is  a  peculiar  thing:  it  seems  to  flourish 
exuberantly  in  small  aggregations  because  it  is  diffi- 
cult to  feel  personal  relations  to  millions.  The  larger 
the  nation  has  grown,  the  more  public  spirit  has  de- 
clined; and  with  that  decline  has  gone  hand  in  hand 
a  corresponding  one  in  local  pride  and  enthusiasm. 
At  the  same  time  there  has  slowly  occurred  a  trans- 
mutation of  religious  conviction.  The  old  bitterness 
and  exclusiveness  of  the  Protestant  sects  has  nearly 
disappeared  and  is  apparently  to  vanish  utterly  at  no 
distant  date:  the  relations  between  Protestants  and 
Roman  Catholics  have,  in  spite  of  all  obstacles,  grown 
steadily  more  tolerant  and  even  intimate.  This  is 
partly  due  to  a  change  in  the  spirit  of  the  age,  chiefly, 
however,  to  our  institutions,  which  make  one  vote 
as  good  as  another,  no  matter  who  casts  it.  We  have 
in  compensation  a  quickened  personality  in  all  direc- 
tions, intellectual  and  emotional,  possibly  even  spirit- 
ual. Practical  Christianity,  as  it  is  called,  is  sum- 
moned to  supplant  doctrinal:  the  welfare  of  humanity 
is  to  concern  each  of  us  quite  as  much  as  the  salva- 
tion of  our  individual  souls.  We  claim,  therefore,  to 
be  vastly  more  sensitive  than  ever  before,  to  feel  a 
greater  responsibility  for  each  other,  to  have  a  quick- 
ened sense  of  pity,  to  exert  ourselves  strenuously  in 
charities  and  reforms.  Having  secured  our  national 
state  as  the  guarantee  of  our  personality,  and  identity 
as  expressed  in  our  rights,  of  our  freedom,  our  personal 
initiative  and  enterprise,  with  all  the  avenues  to  it 
wide  open,  there  has  rather  suddenly  appeared  a 
sentiment,  rapidly  hardening  into  conviction,  that  we 
may  now  venture  as  never  before  to  entrust  many 


THE  NATION  AND  THE  PEOPLE  279 


things  to  the  state  for  the  amelioration  of  the  de- 
graded, vicious,  and  paupers,  which  can  be  more 
quickly  done  by  the  public  as  a  whole  than  by  the 
slow-moving  processes  of  natural  evolution  working 
through  the  patience  and  self-reliance  of  individuals. 
In  Europe  the  doctrine  of  state-interference  has  been 
preached  because  men  believed  in  the  mysterious 
power  of  the  state  to  regenerate  the  many  as  it  has 
the  few;  we  are  beginning  to  preach  it  because  we 
know  there  is  no  mystery  in  it,  because  the  state  is 
ourselves,  and  because  it  is  a  corporation  ready 
formed;  able  swiftly  under  our  own  guidance  to  re- 
generate the  few  who  require  it  and  to  counteract 
imperatively  the  evil  influences  of  other  corporations 
organized  solely  for  private  ends  and  to  promote 
selfish  interests. 

This  notion  of  popular  self-control  through  the 
people's  other  self  is  radically  different  from  the  no- 
tions of  state  socialism  prevalent  overseas.  It  has 
been  a  spontaneous  growth  in  America  and  has  mani- 
fested itself  for  a  long  time  in  various  ways.  There 
was  and  is  a  perfectly  sane  theory  of  economic  Pro- 
tection, which,  proceeding  on  the  ground  that  the 
duty  of  the  modern  national  state  is  not  merely  to 
exist,  but  to  live  and  live  nobly,  declares  that  for  self- 
protection  and  self-respect  everything  necessary  for 
human  life  should  as  far  as  possible  be  produced 
within  its  own  borders  and  that  as  much  as  possible 
should  be  done  toward  making  the  whole  country  a 
fitter  place  for  noble  living.  The  general  view  of  those 
who  hold  this  theory  is  that  the  necessary  revenue 
should  be  raised  by  the  protection  from  foreign  com- 
petition of  struggling  industries  until  they  are  able,  full 
grown,  to  enter  into  a  fair  competition  for  existence. 
Such  necessary  industries  as  are  not  yet  in  existence 
should  be  created  and  cherished  by  the  same  means. 

The  idea  of  the  state  as  a  protector  easily  broadens 


28o     THE  NATION  AND  THE  PEOPLE 


into  wider  horizons:  those  who  have  suffered  to  keep 
the  country  from  shame  and  sorrow  should  themselves 
be  kept  from  shame  and  sorrow  by  receiving  moder- 
ate pensions;  local  enterprise  in  improving  the  means 
of  communication  and  transportation  should  be  sub- 
sidized, and  to  every  child  should  be  given  the  mini- 
mum of  instruction  necessary  to  the  fulfilment  of  his 
civic  duties.  The  element  of  sentimentalism  in  this 
is  plain  and  craftiness  has  shamefully  abused  it. 
Regarding  the  outrages  perpetrated  in  its  name,  our 
political  parties  are  hopefully  at  variance.  The  peo- 
ple have  time  and  again  risen  in  reprobation  not  so 
much  of  the  doctrine  as  of  its  perversion.  The  state 
should  not  interfere  to  create  wealth  for  one  class  by 
taxing  another  directly  or  indirectly;  it  has  no  call  to 
pay  annuities  to  every  man  who  has  served  his  coun- 
try in  war;  it  may  not  squander  millions  on  public 
works  in  order  to  make  "jobs"  wherewith  to  reward 
petty  politicians ;  it  shall  not  multiply  appointive  com- 
missions in  order  to  expand  an  already  menacing  ex- 
ecutive patronage;  and  we  have  forbidden  it  to  sup- 
port eleemosynary  institutions  under  the  control  of  a 
single  religious  sect.  In  the  modern  nation  there  is 
somewhere  resident  an  enlightened  public  opinion  and 
an  appeal  to  it  based  on  facts  "elicited  by  a  fair  public 
investigation,"  is  never  in  vain.  It  now  seems  clear 
that  no  modern  nation  will  tolerate,  willingly  and 
continuously,  that  degree  of  state  interference  which 
in  material  gains  benefits  a  part  of  itself,  rich  or  poor, 
and  not  proportionally  the  whole  people. 

There  appear  to  be  two  ways  in  which  the  state 
may  interfere  to  benefit  everybody.  In  its  coercive 
sphere  it  may  limit  the  size  of  the  people  by  restric- 
tion of  immigration  and  in  its  directive  sphere  it  may 
create  alike  a  sanitary  physical  environment  and  a 
pure  moral  atmosphere.  It  is  a  focal  truth,  now  be- 
ginning to  be  more  widely  recognized,  that  for  the 


THE  NATION  AND  THE  PEOPLE  281 


latter  of  these  two  purposes  a  substantial  degree  of 
moral  homogeneity  is  essential  if  there  is  to  be  hearty 
and  fairly  unanimous  action:  the  notion  that  there 
should  be  a  limitation  both  in  quality  and  quantity 
to  the  population  which  even  a  fruitful  land  can  safely 
undertake  to  support  is  entertained  by  an  ever  in- 
creasing number  of  Americans.  We  have  restricted 
to  the  extent  of  exclusion  the  importation  of  Chinese 
and  Japanese:  we  have  modified  the  Mormon  ini- 
quity: and  there  is  a  wide-spread  demand  for  the 
restriction  of  European  immigration.  It  is  emphatic- 
ally proclaimed  that  our  institutions  are  strained  in 
the  struggle  to  assimilate  so  many  human  beings  of 
such  diverse  and  low  civilizations  at  one  time.  There 
is,  therefore,  the  twofold  effort  to  improve  the  quality 
and  restrict  the  numbers  of  the  people  as  a  whole. 

The  latter  object  has  occupied  the  attention  of 
publicists  for  a  long  time.  Sparta  stringently  reg- 
ulated the  number  of  her  inhabitants,  and  savage 
tribes  still  do  it  by  the  perversion  of  natural  genera- 
tion. Aristotle  declared  that  population  must  be 
restricted  if  necessary  by  the  exposure  of  children. 
Writers  of  all  ages  have  noted  the  lavishness  of  na- 
ture, which  provides  thousands  of  vital  germs  for  one 
which  survives  in  both  vegetable  and  animal  life ;  and 
it  seems  certain  that  if  there  were  no  disturbing  causes 
the  population  of  the  globe  would  double  itself  in  less 
than  twenty  years.  Lands  which  teem  with  millions 
furnish  a  meagre  sustenance  for  each  one  of  the  mil- 
lions and  with  the  decline  of  vital  energy  in  the  man 
comes  a  corresponding  decline  in  the  mental  vigor 
and  general  quality  of  the  race.  As  long  as  the  war- 
fare of  Rome,  of  the  middle  ages,  and  of  absolutist 
Europe  raged,  not  only  were  men  slain  by  the  tens 
and  hundreds  of  thousands,  but  inattention  to  the  arts 
of  peace  permitted  pestilence  and  disease  to  decimate 
the  people  and  prevent  a  surplus.    With  the  advent 


282     THE  NATION  AND  THE  PEOPLE 


of  the  contemporaneous  national  state  the  era  of  peace 
was  proudly  announced.  The  dream  has  been  sadly 
troubled.  Throughout  the  nineteenth  and  early 
twentieth  centuries  there  have  been  bloody  and  ruth- 
less conflicts,  the  latest  the  bloodiest  and  most  ruth- 
less of  all. 

And  yet  the  population  of  the  world  entire  and  of 
the  civilized  world  in  particular  has  steadily  grown  in 
numbers  at  its  normal  rate,  in  Russia  even  faster. 
The  increase  has  been  alarming  because  there  has  been 
a  corresponding  degeneracy  in  quality.  In  India 
under  the  enlightened  and  civilized  administration  of 
Great  Britain  the  native  populations  increase  in  num- 
ber at  a  rate  which  is  even  more  disastrous:  Hindus 
neither  can  nor  will  emigrate,  and  grow  more  and  more 
docile  in  exact  proportion  as  they  are  less  and  less 
nourished.  Decay  in  the  higher  qualities  of  man- 
hood is  pitiful.  Famine  performs  in  both  Russia  and 
India  the  dread  and  inevitable  work  of  restricting 
population;  but  even  that  does  not  sufhce.  With 
undue  overpopulation  the  force  and  energy  of  civiliza- 
tion has  hitherto  spent  itself.  But  with  due  and  care- 
ful foresight  there  is  not  now  and  will  not  be  for  ages 
the  slightest  necessity  for  congestion  of  population. 
In  all  the  six  continental  masses  there  are  vast  tracts 
still  unsettled,  which  are  abundantly  able  to  support 
great  populations  of  men  in  a  high  state  of  civiliza- 
tion. Even  China  still  possesses  untold  resources  of 
lands  and  minerals ;  barely  explored,  much  less  settled : 
as  for  Europe,  smallest  of  all  the  continents,  bad 
government  and  iniquitous  land  laws  have  kept  in 
wilderness  enough  fertile  districts  to  support  double 
its  present  population.  It  is  no  longer  doubted  that 
men  of  a  very  high  type  can  live  and  preserve  their 
standard  of  high  living  even  in  the  tropics,  such  are 
the  incredible  advances  of  sanitary  science :  and  as  yet 
the  resources  of  the  tropics  are  virtually  untouched 


THE  NATION  AND  THE  PEOPLE  283 


by  civilized  man.  Should  our  modern  national  states 
perform  their  duty  in  combatting  the  congestion  of 
population  in  cities  and  favored  lands  we  may  look  in 
security  down  the  long  vista  of  the  future,  undismayed 
by  the  prospective  swarms  of  humanity. 

It  behooves  the  national  state,  nevertheless,  to 
occupy  itself  with  the  inertia  of  man  as  he  is  and  create 
in  him  an  adventurous  spirit  quite  different  from  that 
which  he  now  possesses.  Even  the  haphazard  emi- 
gration of  the  immediate  past  has  done  little  to  solve 
the  problem  of  overpopulation.  For  long  it  was  the 
morally  and  mentally  fit  who  emigrated  from  the 
older  countries  to  the  new:  capable,  energetic,  earnest 
men  and  women,  with  fine  initiative  and  high  princi- 
ple; in  their  train  went  considerable  numbers  of  the 
class  which  emigrates  from  mere  unrest,  an  imitative 
sort,  useful  in  their  way.  To  adjust  the  balance 
European  governments  began  to  export  the  criminal, 
the  vicious,  and  the  pauper.  On  the  whole  the  newer 
lands  have  by  vigilance  turned  back  the  polluted 
flood,  and  numbers  of  those  who  came  from  idle 
curiosity  have  returned  of  their  own  accord.  More- 
over, the  homing  instinct  of  the  semi-civilized  from 
Mediterranean  lands  has  led  thousands  and  thousands 
to  accumulate  petty  fortunes,  large  enough  in  the  ag- 
gregate, and  return  to  a  smug,  insignificant  life  in  their 
native  land.  Emigration  and  immigration  of  these 
types,  too  long  continued,  sap  the  life-blood  of  both 
the  lands  concerned.  In  the  language  of  the  econo- 
mists there  is  a  steady  loss  of  both  capital  and  labor. 

To  such  an  evil,  drastic  remedies  must  be  applied: 
and  the  remedies  are  not  to  the  taste  of  those  who  have 
to  take  them.  The  silly  optimism  of  Rousseau  and 
his  followers  called  for  ever  increasing  numbers  to 
enjoy  the  benefits  of  a  new  regime,  encouraging  free 
movement  for  all  to  all  parts  of  the  globe  with  no 
restriction  as  to  destination.    Bounties  were  to  be 


284     THE  NATION  AND  THE  PEOPLE 


paid  for  large  families  and  all  doors  everywhere 
would  be  found  wide  open  for  the  reception  of  all 
comers.  The  flood  began,  continued  for  a  time  and 
was  halted  by  older  countries,  only  when  disquieting 
phenomena  of  crowding  and  lowered  standards  of  liv- 
ing became  manifest.  In  America  an  over-generous 
hospitality  has  continued  down  to  this  moment: 
we  considered  our  country  a  limitless  refuge  and  asy- 
lum for  the  unhappy  of  all  lands.  They  flocked  to 
us,  millions  on  millions,  and  in  the  abundance  of  their 
untutored  energy  and  unskilled  labor  our  shrewd  self- 
seeking  "empire-builders"  found  their  account. 
Hence  our  insufficient  naturalization  laws  with  allur- 
ing welcome  and  slack  enforcement,  hence  the  swollen 
steamship  monopolies  of  foreign  countries  with  their 
unprincipled  lobbies  at  Washington,  hence  the  for- 
eign disdain  of  our  public  morality  which  for  certainly 
the  first  decennium  of  the  twentieth  century  and 
probably  much  longer  made  our  land  a  seed-plot  of 
foreign  intrigue  and  conspiracy.  Thereby  too  we 
created  an  altogether  revolutionary  view  of  citizen- 
ship, enabling  the  individual  to  transfer  his  allegiance 
with  flippant  impulse  from  nation  to  nation;  and  to 
demand  in  turn  the  protection  of  each  according  to  his 
domicile.  This  was  a  keen  cutting  weapon  through- 
out the  enemy  machinations  of  twenty  years  or  more, 
and  finally  led  to  the  officially  expressed  contempt  for 
the  naturalization  oaths  of  Americans,  originating  in 
all  the  enemy  lands.  It  has  been  a  rude  shock  to 
sentimentalism  and  will  be  still  more  rude  for  the  soul- 
less importers  of  ignorant  labor  when,  roused  to  a  sense 
of  our  dignity  and  duty,  we  take  in  hand,  as  we  speed- 
ily will,  the  radical  revision  of  our  immigration  and 
naturalization  laws.  We  dare  no  longer  risk  a  popu- 
lation too  large  for  our  territory  and  so  heterogeneous 
as  to  endanger  our  institutions. 

Not  that  we  dare  be  rash.  The  period  of  obser- 
vation and  agitation  has  been  none  too  long:  the 


THE  NATION  AND  THE  PEOPLE  285 


period  of  construction  should  also  be  protracted,  in 
the  interest  of  simple  justice.  National  obligation  in 
such  a  matter  cannot  be  settled  either  by  an  appeal 
to  principles  of  absolute  right  or  by  a  consensus  of 
international  sociability  such  as  determines  the  pre- 
cepts of  international  law.  The  solution  of  the  problem 
must  be  tentative  and  gradual,  each  step  being  taken 
separately  and  under  the  stress  of  stern  necessity  only. 
All  nations  should  improve  and  enforce  their  rules  re- 
garding emigration,  immigration,  and  naturalization: 
we,  being  slack  above  all  others,  should  begin,  and 
that  right  speedily.  As  just  remarked  it  is  we  who 
need  the  most  radical  reform. 

Improvident  marriages  are  another  source  of  popu- 
lation trouble:  the  pupils  of  the  common  schools, 
even  in  country  districts,  afford  to  our  census-takers 
a  shocking  percentage  of  underfed,  anaemic  and  poorly 
clad  children.  Medical  science  works  miracles  in 
diminishing  infant  mortality;  but  the  malnutrition  of 
the  saved  has  become  a  grave  public  question.  This 
fact  has  opened  a  wide  field  for  the  overstrained  sen- 
timentalists who  discourse  ignorantly  about  eugenics, 
restraints  on  the  procreation  of  criminals,  and  the 
sexually  diseased.  Extremists  defeat  their  own  ends, 
such  agitation  leads  to  contempt.  There  can  be  no 
question  but  that  marriage  should  not  lightly  be  en- 
tered upon  and  that  the  lessons  of  thrift,  self-restraint, 
and  high  moral  purpose  should  seriously  be  inculcated 
on  all  who  enter  the  relation.  Laws  regulating  the 
reciprocal  relations  of  parents  to  each  other  and  to 
their  children  as  well  as  of  children,  younger  and  older, 
to  their  parents  should  be  put  upon  the  highest  plane 
and  rigidly  enforced.  But  beyond  such  reasonable 
and  sensible  regulations  modern  civilization  cannot  go : 
the  interference  with  personal  liberty  is  too  danger- 
ous. Only  by  the  purging  of  personal  moral  sense 
can  reform  be  made  even  partially  complete. 

The  day  is  gone  when  men  can  be  made  virtuous  by 


286     THE  NATION  AND  THE  PEOPLE 


law  or  when  by  rigid  legislation  walls  of  any  sort  can 
be  erected  in  any  land,  when  exclusion  can  be  based 
on  force  and  arbitrary  enactment.  It  is  just  as  true 
now  as  it  ever  was  that  civilizations  of  widely  varying 
degrees  in  perfection  are  coexistent  and  always  con- 
tending somehow  or  other  for  self-preservation:  it  is 
equally  true  that  the  higher  is  bound  further  to  con- 
tend for  the  mastery.  Warlike  invasions,  military, 
diplomatic,  or  commercial,  must  be  repelled  by  war- 
like means.  On  the  other  hand  the  peaceful  advance 
of  barbarous  hordes,  however  gradual  and  insidious, 
gives  an  opening  for  the  use  of  moral  weapons  which 
must  be  seized.  Only  when  moral  means  fail  can  we 
have  recourse  to  the  force  of  the  state.  As  yet  the 
intelligent  masses  of  no  state  can  be  brought  to  believe 
that  the  moral  armory  has  been  exhausted,  least  of  all 
the  people  of  the  United  States,  who  have  suffered, 
whenever  they  have  suffered,  from  indifference  rather 
than  from  defeat  in  a  struggle.  There  must  be  a  real 
struggle,  and  a  sense  of  absolute  necessity  before  the 
nation  will  have  recourse  to  direct  repressive  measures. 

More  than  half  of  our  difficulties  in  these  days  con- 
sists in  the  unfortunate  but  general  acceptance,  even 
by  the  intelligent,  of  certain  untruths  which  have  so 
long  been  dinned  into  the  popular  ear  by  agitators 
that  they  have  become  trite  and  unquestioned.  One 
of  these  is  that  overpopulation  has  already  become  an 
intolerable  evil  in  the  older  countries  of  Europe:  an- 
other is  that  the  rich  are  growing  richer  and  the  poor 
poorer:  another  lies  in  the  terrible  phrase,  wage- 
slavery,  as  if  the  state  it  depicts  were  general  and 
characteristic  of  the  age.  These  notions  were  dis- 
seminated, perhaps  honestly,  although  it  is  hard  to 
believe  it,  in  the  interests  of  anarchy,  in  the  effort 
to  prove  that  conditions  existing  at  the  time  were 
incapable  of  reform  and  must  be  destroyed  root  and 
branch  before  the  foundations  of  a  new  social  structure 


THE  NATION  AND  THE  PEOPLE  287 


could  be  laid.  Now,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  since  the  days 
of  Marx  and  Lassalle  such  changes  have  been  wrought 
in  England,  the  land  from  which  they  drew  their 
descriptions,  as  to  make  the  laboring  artisan  or  wage 
worker  unrecognizable,  with  their  texts  as  a  guide- 
book. This  has  not  been  brought  about  by  the 
diminution  of  population,  but  by  the  increase  of  capi- 
tal and  the  extension  of  private  enterprise.  The 
splendid  transformation  was  the  work  of  philanthropic 
agitation,  followed  by  an  expression  of  the  new  moral 
sense  in  the  legislative  suppression  of  abuses  and 
monopolies,  by  financial  and  far-reaching  social  re- 
forms. The  exhaustion  of  this  remedy  for  the  undue, 
or  the  apparently  undue,  increase  of  population  has 
not  yet  been  reached  in  any  land,  least  of  all  in  our 
own.  It  really  means  that  instead  of  limitation  by 
legislative  enactment  the  emphasis  should  be  put  on 
quality  of  increase  and  on  a  degree  of  creative  exertion 
not  yet  reached  either  by  the  nation  or  its  people. 

It  is  generally  conceded  that  one  of  the  causes  of 
overpopulation  is  the  reckless  child-getting  of  misery. 
Can  the  nation  control  this  or  can  the  people  compel 
itself  to  lift  all  humanity  up  to  a  higher  plane  of  ma- 
terial comfort  ?  At  first  blush  there  would  appear  to 
be  only  one  possible  answer,  the  affirmative.  If  the 
state  were,  as  Gladstone,  Arnold,  and  many  admirable 
men,  have  contended,  a  normal  person,  its  manifest 
duty  would  be  to  improve  itself,  for  its  action  would  be 
regulated  by  conscience  and  its  religious  obligations 
would  be  identical  with  those  of  the  individual.  But 
we  have  seen  that  while  the  state  is  a  moral,  respon- 
sible organism  it  is  very  abnormal  as  a  person  and 
that  its  appropriate  sphere  of  action  is  much  more 
limited  than  that  of  the  individual  or  the  nation. 
The  moral  sense  of  the  nation,  when  ascertained,  must 
eventually  be  expressed,  though  generally  it  is  not 
immediately  so,  in  the  legislative  action  of  the  state, 


288     THE  NATION  AND  THE  PEOPLE 


not  in  the  conduct  of  any  individual.  The  nation 
commits  to  the  state  the  functions  of  legislation, 
judicature,  and  administration.  In  the  judiciary  the 
people  are  assured  of  a  steady,  regular,  reliable,  in- 
terpretation of  the  law  and  administration  of  justice. 
This  is  entrusted  to  a  highly  trained  class  of  men 
and  their  labors  are  as  remote  as  possible  from  the 
question  of  how  far  the  nation  may  restrain  or  direct 
the  individual  in  the  interest  of  society. 

But  in  matters  of  legislation  and  administration  it 
is  quite  otherwise.  The  art  of  legislation  is  the  prac- 
tical adaptation  of  statutory  enactment  to  the  moral 
sense  of  the  nation:  the  science  of  legislation,  as  in 
Filanghieri's  great  work,  is  really  a  complete  cyclope- 
dia of  human  nature.  The  notion  of  limiting  legis- 
lation at  all  is  essentially  new,  being  possible  only  in 
constitutional  countries.  Locke  limited  govern- 
mental scope  to  that  for  which  government  was  ori- 
ginally called  into  being:  the  protection  of  life  and 
property.  For  generations  our  shibboleths  have  been 
"the  rights  of  man,"  "the  sanctity  of  property  and 
contract,"  "the  rights  of  conscience"  and  so  on:  all 
of  which  imply  that  the  business  of  the  people  is  sternly 
to  repress  any  encroachment  on  these  by  the  state. 
The  Whig  and  liberal  view  was  that  the  nation  might 
be  a  moral  person  or  not,  but  that  the  state,  being  its 
agent,  certainly  was  not  and  that  while  government 
may  from  motives  of  expediency  promote  the  good 
of  society  by  encouraging  religion  and  education  and 
the  arts,  it  must  not  do  so  to  the  injury  of  its  primary 
business:  the  promotion  of  material  prosperity,  the 
protection  of  the  individual's  goods  and  person. 
Mill,  on  the  "laissez  faire"  theory  would  have  the 
state  interfere  only  where  a  thing  admitted  to  be  use- 
ful and  desirable  cannot  be  brought  about  by  volun- 
tary agency,  as  for  example  education  or  the  regulation 
of  the  hours  of  labor.    We  can  only  rely  on  public 


THE  NATION  AND  THE  PEOPLE  289 


opinion  to  secure  "the  absolute  and  essential  develop- 
ment of  humanity  in  its  richest  diversity."  Spencer 
condemns  "all  religious  establishments,  all  state  reg- 
ulation of  commerce,  all  government  relief  of  the 
poor,  all  state  systems  of  sanitary  superintendence," 
even  the  state  currency  and  the  post-office,  because 
they  are  not  in  the  nature  of  protection.  The  nation, 
he  thinks,  should  confide  to  the  state  merely  the  pro- 
tection of  life,  liberty,  and  property. 

All  these  theories  have  had  more  or  less  influence. 
Certainly  the  national  state  deals  as  little  as  possible 
with  matters  of  religion,  striving  to  draw  the  line  be- 
tween what  is  irreligious  and  what  is  immoral.  It 
strives  as  far  as  possible  to  ignore  ecclesiastical  organ- 
ization, except  as  a  form  of  voluntary  association. 
Moreover,  taking  the  civilized  world  as  a  whole,  there 
has  been  a  tendency  to  meddle  less  and  less  with 
men's  private  affairs  in  respect  to  contracts;  it  up- 
holds almost  without  any  limitation  any  bargain  or 
agreement  except  those  for  manifestly  immoral  ends. 

On  the  other  hand  there  has  been  a  steady  increase 
of  state-action  in  regard  to  education:  a  certain  de- 
gree is  made  obligatory,  while  the  most  elaborate  and 
expensive  establishments  are  maintained  free  for  all 
who  care  to  use  them.  There  is  also  a  steady  increase 
of  legislation  regarding  the  labor  of  women  and 
children,  a  constantly  growing  restriction  of  danger- 
ous trades  and  employments.  The  plea  is  the  inability 
of  certain  classes  to  protect  themselves;  protection  be- 
ing better  than  punishment.  On  the  ground  of  public 
convenience  there  is  a  tremendous  growth  of  regula- 
tive legislation:  the  post-office  being  to  that  end  a 
pure  state  monopoly,  as  is  also  the  manufacture  and 
control  of  currency.  All  means  of  transportation,  too, 
are  carefully  regulated  and  protected.  The  learned 
professions,  except  the  clerical,  and  certain  forms  of 
business  which  most  affect  the  prices  of  necessities 


290     THE  NATION  AND  THE  PEOPLE 


[stock  and  produce  exchanges]  are  threatened  with 
government  regulation.  We  have  laws  to  prevent 
gambling,  to  regulate  or  prevent  the  liquor  traffic, 
and  to  preserve  game.  If  philanthropists  had  their 
way  we  would  have  many,  many  others.  We  may 
therefore  conclude  that  in  the  modern  national  state, 
public  opinion  favors  a  high  degree  of  regulative  legis- 
lation both  for  the  material  and  moral  elevation  of 
the  people,  the  classes,  and  the  individual. 


I 


XI 

THE  NATION  AND  SOCIAL  CLASSES 

SOCIAL  CLASSES  IN  THE  NINETEENTH  CENTURY — FRENCH  SOCIALISM — 

ST.   SIMON,  FOURIER,   BLANC — THE  BURGESSES  IN   POWER  MALTHUS 

AND  OWEN:  MAURICE  AND  KINGSLEY — THE  NEW  ELECTORATE  AND  THE 
LABORING  CLASS — MARX,  ENGELS,  AND  WOLFF — PROPHETS  OF  THE 
SOCIALISTIC  STAGE  OF  GOVERNMENT — LABOR  AND  WAGES  COOPERA- 
TION IN  PRODUCTION  AND  DISTRIBUTION — THE  BASIS  OF  MARXISM. 
THE  PROLETARIAT — REFORMS  ACCOMPLISHED,  BUT  DISCONTENT  GROWING 
— REFORMERS  AND  REVOLUTIONARIES  DEMAND  STATE  CONTROL — THE 
APPEAL  TO  FORCE — FALLACIES  OF  SOCIALISTIC  REASONING — THE 
SOCIAL  CLASSES  AND  THEIR  ORGANIZATION — THE  LOWEST  CLASS  AS  A 
BENEFICIARY  OF  SOCIETY — IMPOSSIBILITY  OF  A  PURELY  ECONOMIC 
STATE. 

The  revolution  of  1799  was  a  staggering  blow  to  the 
feudal  distinctions  of  society.  Stratification  of  the 
people  as  to  social  rank,  political  privilege,  and,  if 
we  may  use  a  word  little  understood  at  the  time, 
economic  advantage,  was  denounced  as  a  thing  ac- 
cursed, losing  much  if  not  all  of  its  rigidity.  With 
the  establishment  of  democracy,  in  theory  at  least, 
as  the  essential  underlying  principle  of  constitutional 
government  and  the  national  state,  there  arose  a 
feeling  of  optimism.  There  was  a  general  conviction 
that  man,  having  been  emancipated  in  both  his  poli- 
tical and  religious  relations,  an  age  of  enlightenment 
had  dawned  which  would  see  him  moral,  intelligent, 
and  prosperous,  as  well  as  free.  The  new  conditions 
of  living,  the  training  and  environment  of  men  would 
of  necessity  make  them,  all  alike,  both  reasonable 
and  unselfish.  Simultaneously,  however,  the  entire 
civilized  world  began  to  feel  an  impulse  communicated 
by  the  emancipation  of  commerce  and  trade.  The 
industrial  energies  set  free  on  the  close  of  the  Na- 
poleonic wars  suddenly  gave  an  importance  to  manu- 

291 


292    THE  NATION  AND  SOCIAL  CLASSES 


factures  not  hitherto  seen.  An  unsuspected  power 
for  the  accumulation  of  wealth  was  found  in  the  con- 
tinued improvement  of  machinery  driven  by  steam. 
The  progress  of  applied  discovery  went  forward  until 
the  industrial  revolution  began  to  appear  as  important 
as  the  political  revolution  had  been.  Saint  Simon  with 
Fourier  in  France,  and  Owen  in  England,  set  going 
an  extravagant,  Utopian,  agitation  of  the  most  un- 
scientific and  dangerous  sort.  Serving  no  good  end, 
it  merely  exasperated  the  conservative  and  well-to-do, 
by  threatening  the  foundations  of  society  in  regard 
to  property  and  the  family. 

The  two  Frenchmen  were  really  embattled  against 
the  revival  of  absolutism  which  occurred  in  their 
country  after  Waterloo.  To  them  succeeded  Louis 
Blanc,  who  was  more  a  politician  than  a  philosopher. 
His  was  a  demand  for  the  complete  democratic  organ- 
ization of  the  state.  This  accomplished,  the  social 
regeneration  necessary  for  the  utter  eradication  of 
feudalism  must,  he  thought,  follow:  on  the  basis 
that  "the  lot  of  all  would  be  morally  and  materially 
improved  by  the  free  cooperation  and  fraternal  as- 
sociation of  all."  To  this  end  the  state  should  estab- 
lish national  workshops  and  drive  the  private  manu- 
facturers from  the  field.  Such  shops  were  actually 
opened,  in  1848:  but  they  were  intended  to  give  em- 
ployment to  unskilled  labor  in  unremunerative  work, 
by  those  who  organized  them;  exactly  the  opposite 
of  what  Blanc  claimed  that  he  had  intended.  Such  an 
absurd  and  fatal  misunderstanding  illustrates  only 
too  perfectly  the  wavering  impracticable  nature  of 
the  man's  mind,  which  displayed  itself  in  everything 
he  undertook.  It  was  his  ill-directed  agitation  which 
resulted  in  the  terrible  and  bloody  insurrection  of 
June  26,  1848,  suppressed  by  Cavaignac  with  an  iron 
hand,  that  brought  in  Louis  Napoleon.  The  memories 
o£  that  day,  on  which  more  Frenchmen  perished  than 


THE  NATION  AND  SOCIAL  CLASSES  293 


in  any  battle  of  the  first  empire,  combined  with  the 
fact  that  the  leaders  were  among  those  who  died, 
served  to  keep  the  agitation  down  throughout  the 
second  empire.  It  only  emerged  again  in  the  horrors 
of  the  commune  after  the  Franco-Prussian  War  of 
1870. 

The  movement  of  Owen,  in  England,  had  been  free 
from  the  political  complications  which  checkmated 
Blanc,  in  France.  It  dealt  with  the  condition  of 
English  laborers  and  artisans,  which,  in  consequence 
of  the  stagnation  produced  by  the  Napoleonic  wars, 
had  sunk  to  the  lowest  depth.  Through  the  Reform 
Bill  of  1832  the  same  class  came  into  power  as  that 
which  the  revolution  of  1830  [The  July  Revolution] 
made  the  masters  in  France,  viz.,  the  great,  enter- 
prising, thrifty,  comfortable  conservative  middle  class. 
Against  them  the  workmen  turned  in  the  Chartist 
movement,  which  was  primarily  a  struggle  for  politi- 
cal power:  a  power,  however,  which  they  hoped  to 
use  for  the  improvement  of  their  condition.  This 
movement,  for  the  first  time,  brought  out  into  clear 
prominence  an  economic  doctrine.  Every  one  had 
long  since  been  convinced  that  property  was  based  on 
labor.  "The  Wealth  of  Nations"  taught  nothing  less 
than  that.  But  the  logical  conclusion  was  now  for  the 
first  time  enunciated ;  that  the  property  produced  by 
the  laborer  belonged  in  its  entirety  to  the  laborer: 
the  whole  matter  really  seemed  so  simple  as  that  to 
the  agitators. 

For  a  time  the  general  temper  of  England  was  as 
pessimistic  as  it  had  been  optimistic.  Malthus,  a 
clergyman  of  the  English  church,  a  high-minded, 
sensible,  man  propounded  the  idea  that  caution,  fore- 
sight, and  thrift  in  the  marriage  relation  were  essen- 
tial in  times  when  so  many  human  beings  were  clamor- 
ous for  sustenance;  and  made  clear  that  the  world 
owed  no  man  a  living  except  as  he  gained  it  by  his  own 


294   THE  NATION  AND  SOCIAL  CLASSES 


exertions.  This  notion  was  caught  up  by  wild  theor- 
ists and  expanded  into  a  so-called  Malthusian  doctrine : 
to  limit  population.  It  was  Owen's  merit  conclusively 
to  refute  the  Malthusians,  so  called,  by  proving  that 
owing  to  the  ingenuity  displayed  in  new  and  better 
machinery  the  question  of  overpopulation  was  not 
yet  imminent :  the  wealth  of  the  nation  had  increased 
far  beyond  the  increase  in  population.  After  Owen 
and  the  Chartists  came  the  Christian  socialists, 
Maurice  and  Kingsley,  with  an  able  following,  who 
displayed  a  sincere  and  helpful  sympathy  with  the 
workers  and  in  their  militant  interest  waged  war  with 
the  so-called  Manchester  school.  They  set  forth 
that  society  could  exist  only  on  moral  and  spiritual 
bases,  not  on  the  ground  of  wages  given  and  received ; 
they  taught  the  weak  how  to  associate  themselves  for 
protection,  how  to  cooperate  for  improvement.  Co- 
operation for  distribution  has  been  fairly  successful; 
it  has  been  a  bitter  disappointment  that  coopera- 
tion for  production  has  been  a  comparative  failure. 
Workingmen  with  organizing  and  financial  ability 
soon  rise  to  a  higher  social  sphere  and  cease  to  be 
hand  workers. 

No  sooner  had  the  political  power  of  both  France 
and  England  passed  into  the  hands  of  manufacturers, 
traders  and  the  employers  of  labor  generally,  than  the 
friction  between  employers  and  employed,  between 
burgher  and  proletariat,  began  to  grow  fiercer  and 
fiercer.  The  new  electorate  used  their  political  power 
almost  entirely  to  their  own  advantage  and,  as  the 
laborers  believed,  for  the  further  oppression  of  the 
real  producers  of  national  wealth.  The  distrust  and 
hatred  of  the  wage-earners  for  the  great  proprietors 
and  landed  gentry  was  almost  completely  transferred 
to  what  was  long  styled  the  "bourgeoisie";  and  in- 
tensified to  the  highest  degree.  Indeed  something 
approaching  a  political  alliance  between  the  top  and 


THE  NATION  AND  SOCIAL  CLASSES  295 

bottom  strata  of  society  to  dominate  the  middle  stra- 
tum has  been  discernible  in  many  lands  of  Europe 
and  America  ever  since.  For  long  the  helplessness  of 
"labor,"  the  working  masses,  was  such  as  to  create 
among  them  a  hopeless  apathy,  and  that  condition 
lasted  nearly  twenty  years,  until  about  1852.  In  that 
year  a  new  influence  was  introduced  from  central  and 
eastern  Europe.  Out  from  Russia  poured  the  lurid 
light  of  Bakunin's  gospel  of  chaos.  Substantial  im- 
provement in  the  condition  of  the  working  men  there 
had  been,  but  it  had  been  bestowed  as  a  boon  from 
the  enlightened  selfishness  of  employers.  Not  only 
was  there  no  gratitude,  but  there  was  actually  in- 
creased resentment.  Labor  must  assert  as  a  right  its 
full  share  in  the  product  of  labor.  In  this  general 
view  both  German  agitators  and  Russian  anarchists 
were  fully  at  one.  The  latter  denied  all  possibility 
of  reform  in  the  existing  social  order  and  preached  the 
total  overthrow  of  all  social  institutions,  in  order  to 
write  new  order  on  a  clean  slate.  Marx  and  Lassalle, 
the  German  leaders,  sympathized  with  Bakunin  to 
some  extent,  as  was  shown  in  their  effort  to  identify 
themselves  and  the  "International"  association  of 
their  followers  with  the  Paris  commune  after  the 
suppression  of  the  revolt  by  the  hated  "bourgeoisie": 
but  unlike  Bakunin  they  had  a  constructive  system 
to  substitute  for  the  old.  The  leaven  of  their  doctrine 
worked  in  England,  where  Marx  had  long  resided, 
permeated  Germany,  and  found  a  warm  reception  in 
France.  From  that  time  we  have  become  familiar 
with  a  new  set  of  terms:  classes  and  masses,  capital 
and  labor,  socialism  in  all  its  various  degrees,  and  all 
the  phrases  of  the  modern  agitator. 

Marx  was  a  Jew  of  good  family  and  excellent  train- 
ing, with  a  powerful  mind  and  determined  character. 
Associated  and  identified  with  him  were  Engels  and 
Wolff;  and  closely  akin  in  their  doctrines  were  Las- 


296   THE  NATION  AND  SOCIAL  CLASSES 


salle  and  Rodbertus.  They  styled  themselves  social- 
ists, and  proclaimed  a  new  era  for  the  principles  of 
which  their  advocates  must  fight  exactly  as  men  had 
fought  previous  revolutions  in  behalf  of  religious  and 
political  liberty.  The  coming  revolution  was  to  be 
fought  in  behalf  of  social  and  economic  liberty.  The 
prophets  accepted  the  highest  historical  ground  of 
succession  in  social  states,  of  history  as  "a  succes- 
sion of  orderly  phenomena  controlled  by  natural 
laws."  By  the  laws  of  social  evolution  society  must 
pass,  they  declared,  from  the  state  of  political  de- 
mocracy to  that  of  economic  democracy.  Constitu- 
tional government  having  been  established  as  the  ex- 
pression of  the  popular  will  or  rather  national  will,  it 
was  long  controlled  by  the  aristocracy;  these  in  time 
lost  their  hold  and  were  succeeded  by  the  people, 
but  by  that  portion  of  the  people  which  had  risen  to 
the  estate  of  holding  accumulated  capital  both  in 
land  and  personal  property.  This  portion  of  the 
people  were  just  as  inimical  to  the  expression  of  the 
national  will  for  the  improvement  of  those  who  had 
nothing,  as  the  aristocracy  had  been  for  the  sake  of 
the  "bourgeoisie,"  and  therefore  the  next  evolutionary 
stage  must  be  the  complete  democratization  of  the 
state  as  a  political  organism.  Further  than  this 
freedom  in  politics  cannot  go. 

But  though  the  toiling  masses  find  themselves 
free  at  the  end  of  this  process,  they  are  still  miserable 
in  spite  of  the  political  evolution;  no  better  off  than 
before.  They  are  still  miserable  because  no  more 
than  before  do  they  secure  the  full  return  of  their 
labor.  To  slavery  succeeded  serfdom,  to  serfdom 
political  liberty,  to  this  must  succeed  economic 
liberty.  So  far,  the  free  laborer  secures  as  wages  from 
his  employer,  from  the  capitalist,  that  is,  only  what  is 
necessary  for  the  subsistence  of  himself  and  his 
family;    the  capitalist  appropriates  to  himself  the 


THE  NATION  AND  SOCIAL  CLASSES  297 


"surplus  value"  and  is,  therefore,  constantly  growing 
richer.  Labor  is  the  source  of  all  value,  but  since  by 
the  fall  of  feudalism  the  laborer  is  utterly  cut  off  from 
the  land  which  has  been  appropriated  in  bygone  ages 
and  is  not  in  possession  of  capital :  which  is  either  the 
accumulated  labor  of  generations  which  have  passed, 
or  the  accumulations  of  robbery  on  the  fall  of  the 
Roman  Catholic  church;  those  who  have  both  are 
enabled  to  establish  a  new  slavery,  that  of  wage  la- 
bor. The  only  persons  who  can  freely  struggle  for 
the  increase  of  wealth  are  those  who  already  have  land 
and  capital.  This  domination  of  capital  is  a  stage  in 
social  evolution  and  like  other  preceding  stages  will 
pass  and  be  succeeded  by  a  socialistic  stage  in  which 
"private  competing  capitals  will  have  been  trans- 
formed into  a  united  collective  capital:"  [Schaffle] 
"associated  production  with  a  collective  capital  with 
the  view  of  an  equitable  distribution."  This  proc- 
ess is  inevitable,  but  like  others  it  can  be  assisted 
and  its  theories  must  be  propagated  by  agitation; 
realized,  if  necessary,  by  revolution. 

What  man  desires  has  value  for  his  use.  Any  ex- 
ternal object  adapted  to  human  wants  is  a  com- 
modity and  this  adaptation  gives  it  a  use  value, 
which  when  accumulated  is  wealth.  These  use  values 
being  in  the  modern  world  chiefly  employed  to  supply 
markets  are  transformed  into  exchange  values  which 
vary  according  to  the  proportionate  supply  and  prop- 
erties of  the  commodities.  Hence  any  commodity 
is  as  valuable  as  any  other  if  only  you  have  enough, 
and  since  commodities  exchange  according  to  the  most 
different  values  it  is  clear  that  their  value  depends 
not  on  their  physical  qualities,  but  on  the  labor 
crystallized  in  them.  The  measure  of  value  there- 
fore is  labor-time.  This  is  to  be  reckoned  as  the  time 
of  normal  labor,  neither  skilled  nor  unskilled,  under 
normal   social   conditions.    Under  the  modern  or 


298    THE  NATION  AND  SOCIAL  CLASSES 


capitalistic  regime,  the  aim  of  the  capitalist  is  identical 
with  that  of  the  feudal  suzerain  or  the  slave  owner: 
to  appropriate  for  himself  the  results  of  other  men's 
labor,  except  so  much  as  is  necessary  to  support 
present,  and  secure  a  future,  supply  of  labor.  The 
workman  sells  his  labor-force  at  what  it  will  bring; 
namely,  his  wages.  This  is  so  regulated  that  the 
capitalist  secures  over  and  above  his  entire  outlay, 
viz.,  his  interest  and  his  payroll,  a  profit  which  is  really 
the  earnings  of  unpaid  labor;  the  surplus  value,  which 
really  belongs  to  the  workman  and  must  be  secured 
by  him. 

Under  the  present  scheme  certam  tendencies  have 
developed  which  show  its  rottenness.  Production  is 
secured  by  the  division  of  labor  and  association  in 
great  factories;  its  results  are  appropriated  by  the 
individual  capitalist.  These  contend  for  the  market 
and  financial  crises  due  to  a  sheer  plethora  of  wealth 
occur  periodically,  a  proof  of  the  utter  anarchy  in 
the  system  of  distribution.  These  crises  produce  such 
irregularities  that  the  workman,  besides  being  cheated 
out  of  the  surplus  value  which  justly  belongs  to  him, 
has  not  even  the  regular  enjoyment  of  his  wages.  The 
result  is  misery  and  uncertainty  in  the  whole  of  so- 
ciety. The  "bourgeoisie"  has  shown  itself  as  utterly 
unfit  as  the  landed  proprietors  were  to  rule,  the  work- 
man must  take  the  task  in  hand.  To  this  end  he 
must  radically  democratize  the  national  state,  get 
rid  of  all  checks  on  the  exercise  of  his  power;  and  then 
the  power  once  obtained  use  it  to  secure  association 
in  capital,  in  production,  and  in  distribution.  Such  is 
in  outline  the  doctrine  which  has  brought  the  modern 
national  state  face  to  face  with  the  most  curious  prob- 
lem ever  presented  to  organized  society :  how  to  meet 
a  formidable  attempt  to  transform  the  structure  of 
law,  politics,  and  eventually  of  both  philosophy  and 
religion,  onto  an  economic  basis.    The  system  be- 


THE  NATION  AND  SOCIAL  CLASSES  299 


gan  where  it  seeks  to  end,  in  a  view  of  the  universe 
based  on  pure  materiahsm,  on  the  physical,  atheistic 
evolution  of  history  as  a  merciless  process  independent 
of  volition,  human  or  divine.  It  has  created  a  term- 
inology all  its  own  which  by  sheer  persistence  it  has  in- 
troduced into  ever  widening  circles  of  use:  a  set  of 
terms  neither  definite  nor  based  on  fact.  They  are 
not  consistently  used  by  those  who  uphold  the  doc- 
trine and  still  less  so  by  the  great  numbers  who  have 
a  vague  second-hand  acquaintance  with  the  reason- 
ing on  which  they  are  based;  who  possess  a  still  dim- 
mer conception  of  the  truth  or  rather  lack  of  truth  in 
the  account  of  historical  progress  upon  which  the 
whole  argument  rests. 

The  picture  which  Marx  drew  of  the  hand  workers 
in  England  during  the  half  century  following  the  Na- 
poleonic wars  is  in  the  main  a  true  one.  The  results 
of  a  pitiless  application  of  the  dogma  [laissez  faire] 
which  left  every  man  to  his  own  resources  were  de- 
plorable. Employers  were  greedy,  unprincipled,  and 
without  compassion,  violating  every  precept  of  Chris- 
tianity in  subservience  to  what  they  chose  to  call  the 
law  of  supply  and  demand.  Filthy  tenements;  un- 
principled employment  of  infants,  children,  and 
women;  neglect  of  sanitary  laws;  preposterous  hours 
of  labor;  they  left  nothing  untried  which  in  their 
fierce  competition  for  markets  throughout  the  world 
would  increase  and  cheapen  production.  Evils  of 
quite  another  sort,  incident  to  a  revival  of  feudal 
absolutism,  survived  during  the  same  epoch  in  France 
and  Germany  to  intensify  a  misery  which  was  only 
partly  due  to  the  same  causes  as  were  prevalent  in 
England.  But  in  general  throughout  Europe  the 
political  millennium  had  not  produced  and  was  not 
accompanied  by  the  material  amelioration  of  men 
which  had  been  expected  from  it.  Thus  there  was 
formed  a  proletariat:    a  vast  number  of  human 


300   THE  NATION  AND  SOCIAL  CLASSES 


beings  living  an  existence  largely  animal,  destitute  of 
most  human  qualities  except  passion  and  composed 
of  the  most  varied  elements:  the  agricultural  laborer 
and  serf,  the  skilled  artisan  and  unskilled  laborer, 
together  with  the  idle  and  vicious  of  all  classes  in  town 
and  country.  The  name  was  borrowed  from  that  of 
a  similar  population  which  had  existed  in  imperial 
Rome.  To  the  proletariat  the  rest  of  society  stood  in 
glaring  contrast:  the  refinement  of  education,  the 
luxury  of  wealth,  the  ostentation  of  newly  acquired 
fortunes,  the  keenness  of  intellect  untempered  by 
pity,  the  general  attitude  of  selfish  independence 
which  pervaded  the  whole,  all  these  were  observed 
and  their  meaning  distorted,  with  a  spite  and  bitter- 
ness which  sprang  from  unreasoning  discontent. 

This  state  of  things  has  not  been  entirely  remedied, 
although  it  has  been  vastly  improved;  so  far  in  fact 
that  the  descriptive  portions  of  Marx's  book  published 
in  1867  are  no  longer  even  approximately  true.  The 
factories  and  mines  of  the  whole  world  have  been  ex- 
amined and  reformed;  the  humane  spirit  of  Christian 
and  pagan  philanthropy  has  been  aroused  to  gigantic 
efforts;  the  material  condition  of  hand  workers  has 
been  improved  beyond  recognition  by  the  regulation 
of  trade,  the  passage  and  enforcement  of  factory  and 
sanitation  laws;  their  wages  have  been  increased  and 
they  get  more  comfort  for  their  money.  This  increase 
has  gone  so  far  indeed  that  labor  confiscates  capital 
to  a  considerable  degree,  not  merely  accumulated 
wealth,  but  the  capital  of  native  ability  for  organiza- 
tion, production,  and  distribution,  which  is  both  under- 
paid and  overtaxed.  Two  elements  enter  into  this 
new  situation:  organized  labor  with  its  tyrannical 
and  merciless  demand  alike  on  the  workman  and  his 
employer  has  been  highly  successful;  the  force  of  an 
awakened  moral  public  opinion,  lavishly  extending  the 
suffrage,  has  opened  wide  the  field  for  its  operations. 


THE  NATION  AND  SOCIAL  CLASSES  301 


As  yet,  however,  there  is  no  perfection :  there  are  still 
greedy  and  unprincipled  employers,  the  very  men  who 
but  yesterday  were  "wage-slaves"  themselves;  there 
are  grasping  and  lawless  corporations;  the  working 
man  in  overwhelming  majority  is  unintelligent,  violent, 
and  unthrifty.  Much,  therefore,  very  much  remains 
to  be  done.  Inasmuch  as  public  opinion  was  deter- 
mined to  undo  the  worst  wrongs  without  delay,  it 
made  use  of  state  action;  within  thirty  years  state 
interference  has  increased  tremendously.  This  les- 
son has  not  been  lost  on  the  socialist :  if  there  be  any- 
thing he  fears  it  is  the  reform  of  the  present  system 
far  enough  to  destroy  his  ammunition.  He  has  seen 
great  associations  of  manufacturers  and  traders  use 
the  state  for  their  own  purposes  and  he  understands 
that  in  an  organized  society  where  votes  are  the  last 
appeal,  he  holds  or  can  hold  the  supreme  power;  by 
their  use  he  can  destroy  the  oppressive  corporations 
of  capital  and  form  the  one  all-inclusive  corporation 
in  which  he  has  a  share;  he  can  then  supplant  the 
individual  and  corporate  capitalist  altogether.  Thus 
it  comes  about  that  both  reformer  and  revolutionary 
are  now  clamorous  for  the  extension  of  state  influence 
60  as  to  regulate  every  social  class  in  all  its  interests. 

There  is  a  manifest  danger  in  this  rising  tide  of 
sentiment:  whichever  succeeds  first  the  result  will 
be  disastrous.  The  revolutionary  will  always  over- 
throw society  momentarily,  and  temporarily  undo  all 
that  has  been  gained:  the  demagogue  and  the  senti- 
mentalist will  bring  that  which  is  just  and  creditable 
into  disrepute  by  impatience.  The  overwhelming  ma- 
jority of  Americans  are  not  profoundly  impressed  by 
the  Marxian,  socialistic  gospel;  still  less  so  by  the  sen- 
timental philanthropist.  The  duty  of  sane  humanity 
at  such  a  crisis  is  simple  enough,  and  is  on  the  whole 
squarely  faced  by  the  high-minded.  Their  procedure 
in  the  present  crisis  must  be  marked  by  gravity  and 


302   THE  NATION  AND  SOCIAL  CLASSES 


wisdom,  by  patience  and  careful  study,  by  the  same 
fearlessness  and  tenacity  of  purpose  as  that  exhibited 
by  those  who  would  turn  the  world  upside  down  and 
throw  all  the  painfully  accumulated  gains  of  historical 
experience  into  the  rubbish  heap.  In  the  first  place 
we  should  propagate  the  antidote  and  scatter  it  broad- 
cast, even  more  assiduously  than  the  poison  has  been 
bred  and  scattered.  In  the  second  place  we  should  be 
just  as  ready  to  make  the  last  solemn  appeal  through 
suffering  to  force,  as  are  those  who  strive  to  prove  the 
earnestness  of  their  convictions  by  their  desperation 
and  blood-thirstiness.  It  is  a  vastly  sadder  spectacle 
to  see  all  mankind  levelled  down  than  it  is  to  see  shift- 
lessness,  unbelief,  intemperance,  and  immorality  un- 
dergoing the  purification  of  suffering.  There  is  a 
way,  through  the  further  dissemination  of  piety, 
morality  and  intelligence  among  all  classes,  to  relieve 
the  worthy  poor  and  regenerate  the  unworthy  strong 
without  punishing  the  worthy  people  of  industrious 
habits  and  the  worthy  rich  who  are  the  great  bene- 
factors of  society. 

In  the  first  place  then  the  fallacies  of  socialistic 
reasoning  are  easily  understood  and  when  understood 
almost  ridiculous.  Labor  is  the  source  of  value,  but 
there  is  brain  labor  as  well  as  hand  labor.  In  other 
words  it  is  ability  of  both  kinds  which  puts  value  into 
commodities.  In  the  second  place,  both  historically 
and  theoretically,  it  is  simply  a  lie  that  capital  is 
robbery.  Robbery  there  has  been  in  every  transi- 
tional epoch  of  social  movement:  there  was  robbery 
in  the  slave  trade,  robbery  when  absolute  monarchs 
granted  colonies  to  be  administered  for  private  in- 
terest, robbery  and  corruption  in  the  settlement  of 
land  questions  in  Europe  itself.  But  such  ill-gotten 
gains  have  for  the  most  part  long  since  been  dissi- 
pated. The  capital  now  in  existence  is  not  in  any 
sense  the  accretion  to  such  fortunes  of  surplus  value. 
Its  natural  history  is  entirely  different:  the  capitalists 


THE  NATION  AND  SOCIAL  CLASSES  303 


of  to-day  are  the  children  of  men  who  profited  by  none 
of  those  processes  so  graphically  described  or  else 
they  were  once  poor  themselves.  The  founders  of 
present-day  fortunes  were  men  of  ability  both  of  hand 
and  brain;  they  received  the  current  rate  of  wages, 
the  beginnings  of  their  wealth  were  savings  due  to 
personal  self-denial,  the  accretions  were  the  just  re- 
turn of  their  enterprise,  their  ingenuity,  their  manage- 
ment. This  has  been  the  normal  process.  The  devia- 
tions from  it  by  dishonesty  may  have  been  numerous; 
but  they  have  been  reprobated  severely  and  the  dep- 
redators punished  in  a  moral  and  often  in  a  legal 
way.  Moreover,  if  free  exchange  of  commodities  and 
value  be  the  basis  of  our  industrial  regime  it  is  no  sin 
to  take  interest  for  the  use  of  a  commodity  loaned; 
and  money  is  a  commodity  as  is  also  credit;  nor  for 
the  borrower  to  use  the  power  thus  acquired  to  secure 
a  still  higher  return,  which  is  simply  the  wages  of  that 
form  of  labor  which  we  call  ability. 

Furthermore,  we  must  reiterate  what  was  said  in 
another  connection.  There  are  no  rigid  classes: 
there  is  no  fixed  proletariat.  It  is  not  long  since  a 
benevolent  person  in  London  gave  a  sixpence  to  each 
of  six  sandwich  men;  of  these,  four  turned  out  to 
have  been  clergymen  !  Political  liberty  has  secured 
not  human  perfection,  but  the  free  exercise  of  human 
capabilities.  The  true  method  of  reforming  social 
abuse  is  moral  and  not  political.  Nor  is  it  true  that 
the  rich  are  growing  richer  and  the  poor  poorer.  Men 
fix  their  eyes  on  baubles,  as  children  do ;  and  we  have 
gazed  on  the  comparatively  few  great  fortunes  in  the 
few  great  money-centres  until  we  are  dazzled  and 
dazed.  Statistics  are  far  from  having  the  value 
which  the  physical  school  would  attach  to  them. 
They  themselves  have  of  recent  years  become  so 
wary  that  they  posit  a  statistical  science  to  guard 
the  foot-steps  even  of  the  learned. 

If  we  admit  that  at  any  given  moment  there  are 


304    THE  NATION  AND  SOCIAL  CLASSES 


the  three  social  classes:  rich,  middle,  and  poor,  we 
find  that  those  who  were  poorer  yesterday  are  richer 
to-day  in  large  majority:  while  only  a  few  have  sunk 
into  greater  poverty,  and  on  these  few  we  fix  our  eyes 
for  purposes  of  generalization.  We  also  discover 
from  dispassionate  examination  that  the  dimensions 
of  fortunes  exist  largely  in  our  imaginations,  that 
both  capital  and  income  shrink  when  examined  dis- 
passionately, while  the  rate  of  interest  is  daily  dimin- 
ishing. Statistics  also  prove  that  as  between  these 
three  classes  society  at  large  contributes  far  more  to 
the  lowest  class  as  a  whole  than  to  the  other  two  com- 
bined. If  robbery  there  be,  it  is  the  proletariat 
which  has  learned  how  to  use  the  state  to  deprive  the 
other  classes  of  their  property. 

Finally  socialism  proves  conclusively  that  to  create 
a  purely  economic  state  is  to  destroy  the  highest  form 
of  human  association,  viz.,  the  nation.  In  fact  this 
is  its  proudest  boast.  Our  conclusion  must  necessarily 
be  that  while  sin  is  a  fact,  adroit  sinners  will  abuse 
every  form  of  association,  even  the  nation  and  far 
more  the  economic  state.  Sinners  will  suffer  both  here 
and  hereafter  despite  every  safeguard  of  law  and  poli- 
tics. Undue  emphasis  on  economic  questions  and 
state  interference  with  private  concerns  and  with  the 
social  classes  of  an  hour,  will  not  merely  rob  us  of 
all  our  ancestors  have  secured  but  open  new  and  far 
more  inviting  avenues  for  the  idle  and  stupid  to  prey 
on  the  able  and  industrious. 


XII 


THE  NATION  AND  THE  INDIVIDUAL 

THE  FREE  MAN  THE  ULTIMATE  FACT  IN  SOCIAL  EVOLUTION  CHRISTLAN 

SOCIALISTS  AND  SOCIAL  DEMOCRATS — THE  SO-C.\LLED  IDEALS  OF  AN- 
ARCHY— THE  TRUE  IDEALS  OF  CHRISTIANITY — DANGER  IN  WEAKENING 
PERSONAL  RESPONSIBILITY — THE  MENACE  OF  CORPORATE  ASSOCIA- 
TIONS— THE  HISTORICAL  SCHOOL  OF  SOCIALISTS — DIRECTIVE  POWERS  OF 
GOVERNMENT — THE  SOCIALIZED  NATION  A  PROBABILITY — THE  SOCIAL 
ALLIANCES  OF  EXISTING  GOVERNMENTS — INTERRELATIONSHIP  OF 
NATIONS  AND  PEOPLES — RESTORATION  OF  CHECKS  AND  BALANCES  DE- 
MANDED TAXATION,  EXTRAVAGANCE,   SECTIONALISM  HIGH  COST  OF 

LIVING    IN    A    FEDERAL    DEMOCRACY  LEGISLATION   CONTROLLED  BY 

MEDIAN  NOT  AVERAGE  WANTS,  THE  INTERACTION  OF  PRIVATE  AND 
PUBLIC  VIRTUE. 

There  is  always  serious  danger,  when  we  use  the 
enemy's  terms,  lest  we  also  admit  his  false  premises. 
Emphatically,  therefore,  we  deny  the  existence  of 
classes  in  that  sense  of  caste  which  socialism  attaches 
to  the  word.  Just  as  social  chaos  or  anarchy  as  a 
permanence  is  totally  out  of  date  and  intolerable 
even  to  those  who  create  it  temporarily  for  the  sake 
of  robbery,  just  as  communism  is  also  an  anachronism 
like  feudalism,  ecclesiasticism,  and  all  the  other  rem- 
nants of  bygone  systems  which  have  drifted  like  the 
derelicts  they  are  down  the  stream  of  time  to  clog  the 
current  of  modern  events,  so  we  should  constantly 
remind  ourselves  and  make  it  pellucidly  clear  that  the 
individual  free  man  is  at  last  the  ultimate  fact  of 
society;  that  his  associations  are  now  no  longer 
forced  but  voluntary  and  that  the  only  barrier  to  the 
gratification  of  his  yearnings  is  his  individual  capacity, 
the  nature  which  makes  him  by  its  limitations  neither 
beast  nor  god;  a  creature  formed  in  the  image  but 
not  in  the  proportions  of  his  Maker.    No  doubt  the 

30s 


306   THE  NATION  AND  THE  INDIVIDUAL 


germs  of  every  coming  state  of  society  exist  in  that 
which  is  present  and  passing;  no  doubt  also  they  are 
difficult  to  discern  and  that  the  philosopher  should  be 
on  the  watch-tower.  But  progress  is  a  new  condition 
and  not  an  old  one  returning:  the  remedy  for  the  evils 
of  existing  industrial  association  is  not  another  and 
intensified  association,  compulsory  at  that,  which 
would  so  far  intensify  capitalism  and  industrialism 
as  to  make  the  friction  between  them  the  one  all- 
absorbing  fact  of  the  world.  History  proves  that  the 
progress  of  the  individual  has  always  outrun  the  prog- 
ress of  society:  there  have  always  been  forerunners, 
what  reason  have  we  to  expect  that  the  order  of 
nature  will  be  reversed  and  society  outstrip  the  man 
in  progress,  dragging  the  individual  at  her  car,  espe- 
cially when  her  progress  is  purely  material,  turning  dis- 
contented, ambitious,  struggling  men  into  sleek  and 
sleepy,  contented  animals  ? 

It  seems  probable,  therefore,  that  the  germs  of  the 
coming  social  state  now  resident  in  the  existing  one 
are  in  the  efforts  put  forth  to  ameliorate  the  man, 
each  individual  human  being  in  his  or  her  sphere  of 
action.  The  relations  of  men  to  each  other  will  neces- 
sarily be  more  perfect  just  as  the  individuals  are  better 
men  and  women.  The  great  problem  of  the  organized 
national  state  is  its  individual  citizens,  as  they  are, 
and  their  now  existing  relations  to  each  other;  what 
we  call  justice.  Its  secondary  problem  is  these  same 
persons  as  they  are  becoming  and  their  possible  rela- 
tions to  each  other;  what  we  may  style  reform.  Since 
the  hearts  of  men  are  inscrutable,  reform  is  always 
tentative  and  more  or  less  theoretical:  while  justice, 
the  cornerstone  of  all  society,  approaches  the  absolute. 
Socialism  in  the  sense  of  improvement  is  primarily 
the  affair  of  whatever  deals  with  the  springs  of  in- 
dividual action  and  it  is  a  sound  instinct  which 
prompts  the  church  to  deal  with  sociology:  with  the 


THE  NATION  AND  THE  INDIVIDUAL  307 


conditions  of  social  unrest  in  order  to  ascertain  how 
by  saving  men's  souls  their  present  life  may  be  im- 
proved and  vice  versa,  how  by  improving  this  present 
life  an  assurance  of  the  life  to  come  may  be  obtained. 
The  Christian  socialists  of  the  English  churchmen 
created  the  still  rising  tide  of  philanthropy  in  their 
country  and  ours,  a  tide  which  drew  into  it  the  humani- 
tarianism  of  all  schools,  and  made  cooperative  distri- 
bution a  success  and  stimulates  the  persistent  efforts 
to  find  a  path  to  successful  cooperation  in  production. 
The  Roman  Catholics  of  Germany  under  von  Ketteler 
[Die  Arbeiterfrage  und  das  Christenthum]  bitterly 
attacked  the  "let  alone"  school  and  advised  forming 
voluntary  associations  for  cooperative  production 
with  capital  supplied  by  Christian  men.  The 
Schultze-Dclitsch  movement  for  self-help  was  at 
bottom  an  effort  of  Protestants  in  the  same  direction. 
This  reasonable  ground  was  soon  abandoned  by  the 
Protestant  participators  who  went  over  to  the  enemy 
and  declared  that  liberty,  equality,  and  fraternity 
were  scriptural,  as  indeed  they  are  when  properly 
understood,  that  competition  was  to  be  condemned  as 
un-Chrlstian,  and  that  private  property  must  be 
destroyed  by  conversion  into  public  property,  that  is 
by  its  socialization.  The  Jew-baiting  of  Stoecker  was 
a  part  of  the  same  movement,  aimed  at  the  most 
perfect  representative  of  the  private  capitalist  who 
could  be  found.  Out  of  that  agitation  sprang  two 
associations:  one  of  the  sympathetic  well-to-do;  one 
of  the  laborers  themselves.  Both  were  hated  and 
feared  by  the  social-democratic  party.  A  similar 
movement  has  been  inaugurated  in  America.  It  re- 
veals less  strength  now  than  it  seemed  to  have  twenty 
years  ago  under  the  leadership  of  a  now  forgotten 
lowan  evangelist;  but  the  numbers  of  evangelical 
Christians  who  are  socialistically  disposed  is  very 
large  and  they  await  an  organizing  leader.    What  are 


3o8   THE  NATION  AND  THE  INDIVIDUAL 


known  as  "parlor  socialists,"  a  few  opulent  young 
persons  who  toy  with  socialism  as  an  exciting  amuse- 
ment, but  hold  fast  to  their  private  fortunes  while 
aping  in  speech  the  dead-in-earnest  agitators,  are 
quite  certainly  the  worst  enemies  of  moderate  and 
constitutional  socialism. 

Curiously  enough  anarchy  claims  to  have  the  same 
ideals  as  Christianity:  "a.  condition  of  human  en- 
lightenment and  self-control"  in  which  the  individual 
shall  be  a  law  unto  himself  and  in  which  all  external 
authority  shall  be  abolished  as  a  despotic  interference 
with  personal  freedom.  "In  a  word,"  says  Bakunin 
in  his  "Dieu  et  I'Etat,"  "we  object  to  all  legislation, 
all  authority,  and  all  influence,  privileged,  patented, 
official  and  legal,  even  when  it  has  proceeded  from 
universal  suffrage,  convinced  that  it  must  always  turn 
to  the  profit  of  a  dominating  and  exploiting  minority 
against  the  great  majority  of  the  enslaved."  This 
means  that  there  shall  be  no  organized  society,  that 
there  shall  not  be  even  a  minimum  of  coercive  author- 
ity, no  directive  authority  whatever.  Bakunin's 
doctrine  is  really  identical  with  that  of  Proudhon,  the 
French  anarchist,  demanding  insurrection  as  the  last 
right  of  slaves.  It  is  what  animates  the  brutish  as- 
sassins of  France,  Italy,  and  Spain;  of  a  Czolgosz  im- 
ported to  our  own  shores;  men  who  are  the  logical 
product  of  teachings  intended  totally  to  destroy  the 
present  social  organization.  Note  well  that  it  offers 
not  a  trace  of  suggestion  as  to  how  men  are  to  be 
turned  into  the  ideal  creatures  who  can  exist  without 
restraint  or  guidance. 

Christianity  is  the  very  zenith  of  this  nadir,  in 
that  it  is  purely  constructive.  Its  ideal  is  the  prod- 
uct of  a  long  evolutionary  construction:  it  is  satu- 
rated with  the  promise  of  a  gradual  approach :  it  does 
not  demand  immediate  realization.  It  proposes  a 
natural,  wholesome  growth,  and  not  a  violent  impossi- 


THE  NATION  AND  THE  INDIVIDUAL  309 


ble  reconstruction.  As  this  growth  takes  place  in 
the  man  from  stage  to  stage,  the  constitution  of  the 
national  state  may  be  revised  so  that  in  turn  it  may 
further  the  process.  National  action  must  repress 
only  what  interferes  with  this  ameliorating  process; 
the  rest,  the  constructive  element,  should  be  left  to 
the  operation  of  the  means  of  grace  in  the  hearts  of 
men,  cherished  and  quickened  by  the  church.  The 
regeneration  of  man  and  the  regeneration  of  society 
should  thus  go  with  fairly  equal  step,  one  supporting 
and  sustaining  the  other.  This  process  is  not  now  to 
be  inaugurated,  it  has  been  going  on  throughout  the 
Christian  ages.  It  must  not,  however,  be  checked  by 
undue  conservatism  nor  weakened  by  undue  liberalism. 
To  this  end  the  forces  of  Christianity  must  be  unified, 
organized,  and  used.  The  one  central  function  of  the 
church  is  to  save  souls;  along  with  that  the  accom- 
panying energies  must  be  directed  to  the  improve- 
ment and  conservation  of  Christian  society  as  the  nec- 
essary earthly  environment  of  Christian  men  and 
women. 

It  will  not  do,  however,  for  either  the  nation  or  the 
church  to  assume  the  obligations  of  the  individual. 
Self-help  is  the  first  thing  to  be  inculcated  on  citizen 
and  saint.  Enforced  self-help,  like  compulsory  ar- 
bitration, is  a  contradiction  in  terms,  just  as  in  the 
sphere  of  morality  habit  can  not  replace  the  regular, 
systematic  exercise  of  choice.  Social  habit  is  a  fine 
incentive  to  personal  respect,  but  if  the  latter  dis- 
appear the  other  will  perish  along  with  it.  The  man's 
first  duty  is  to  himself,  his  duty  to  society  is  subse- 
quent and  ancillary.  Whatever,  therefore,  the  nation 
does  which  diminishes  personal  initiative  is  just 
so  far  a  wrong.  We  have  abundant  historical  and 
present  illustrations  of  what  is  called  state  socialism; 
which  means  nothing  more  or  less  than  national  action 
on  behalf  of  the  poor.    The  English  poor-laws  were 


310   THE  NATION  AND  THE  INDIVIDUAL 


intended  to  ameliorate  the  poor  man's  lot:  they  de- 
graded him  into  a  professional  pauper,  at  least  that 
was  their  tendency,  and  they  increased  the  evil  they 
were  designed  to  destroy.  Some  of  our  own  systems 
of  poor-relief  have  had  a  similar  effect.  Poor-laws  to 
be  effective  require  exactly  the  same  personal,  min- 
ute attention  as  does  the  dispensing  of  private  charity. 

There  is  no  mystical  power  in  the  nation,  not  even 
in  voluntary  charitable  organizations,  to  set  on  foot 
a  self-running  system:  the  machinery  of  charity  re- 
quires constant  attention  and  constant  adaptation  to 
new  conditions.  In  Germany  the  state-socialism  of 
Bismarck  went  further,  proposing  as  a  positive  mea- 
sure for  the  good  of  the  workingman  a  compulsory 
insurance  against  accident,  sickness,  old  age,  and  in- 
ability to  work  from  any  cause.  This  measure  was 
put  in  operation.  It  was  further  proposed  to  organize 
the  life  of  the  people  in  the  form  of  cooperative  associa- 
tions under  the  protection  and  furtherance  of  the  state. 
Paternalism  could  not  well  go  further.  The  social 
democrats  were  only  roused  thereby  to  fresh  activity 
and  the  power  of  the  state  spoken  of  so  jauntily  as 
virtually  inexhaustible  proved  to  be  already  exhausted 
in  its  measures  for  military  offense  and  defense,  not 
to  speak  of  the  expense  of  repressing  inner  turmoil. 
Those  who  have  observed  what  evil  has  been  wrought 
by  "corporate  associations  under  the  protection  and 
furtherance  of  the  state"  for  ourselves  in  times  of 
profound  peace  and  the  greatest  material  prosperity 
with  no  undue  expenditure  for  standing  armies  and 
war  fleets  are  not  very  enthusiastic  about  such  forms 
of  state  interference,  even  under  the  guise  of  state 
benevolence.  For  well  nigh  two  generations  we  paid 
the  civil  war  pensioners,  who  largely  belonged  to  what 
is  called  the  proletariat,  more  than  the  combined 
charges  of  the  French  and  German  military  services: 
we  groaned  under  commercial  monopolies  of  many 


THE  NATION  AND  THE  INDIVIDUAL  311 


sorts,  we  were  oppressed  by  the  corporations  "pro- 
tected and  furthered  by  the  state."  Productive  asso- 
ciation with  state  help  proved  a  delusion,  in  such 
matters  as  sugar  and  silver  especially. 

The  attempt  to  determine  the  relation  of  the  na- 
tion to  the  man  having  failed  at  both  extremes  of 
economic  doctrine;  that  of  the  free-trade  school  and 
that  of  the  socialistic  school,  even  when  assisted  by 
Christian  sentimentalism :  and  the  via  media  of  state- 
socialism  being  neither  successful  nor  even  partially 
satisfactory  to  any  concerned,  still  another  type  of 
reasoning  has  been  evolved  from  the  necessities  of 
the  case ;  that  of  the  so-called  historical  school.  They 
incline  to  discard  the  adjective  from  the  phrase 
political  economy  entirely  and  emphasize  the  moral 
element  in  economic  study,  dividing  the  inquiry  into 
three  categories:  private  economy,  dominated  by 
personal  interest;  compulsory  public  economy,  dom- 
inated by  national  interest;  and  the  caritative  sphere 
in  which  pity  and  benevolence  are  paramount.  Dis- 
carding the  jiis  natures  of  the  physicists  and  also  the 
intuitional  view  of  personal  freedom  and  of  prop- 
erty, they  base  the  relation  of  man  to  property  on 
the  contemporary  concept  of  rights  as  a  historical 
product,  and  wed  jurisprudence  with  economy,  evolv- 
ing a  new  conception  of  the  relation  of  man  to  society 
in  general.  For  them  the  one  essential  thing  is  to 
strip  political  economy  of  its  predominance  in  the 
political  sphere  and  reduce  it  to  its  place  in  a  general 
scheme  of  social  studies. 

They  then  proceed  to  mediate  between  the  two  ex- 
tremes: that  which  would  minimize  national  action 
to  maintaining  order  and  securing  justice;  that  is, 
freedom,  and  safety  to  the  man;  and  the  other  which 
would  use  the  nation  both  to  destroy  itself  and  the 
man.  They  seek  to  minimize  the  coercive  functions 
of  the  state  as  instrument  of  the  nation,  but  they  de- 


312    THE  NATION  AND  THE  INDIVIDUAL 


sire  widely  to  extend  the  directive  state  functions. 
The  organ  of  the  nation  must  do  what  is  admitted  to 
be  generally  desirable  but  which  is  not  possible  by 
voluntary  action,  personal  or  associated.  What  is 
done  must  be  done  with  caution  after  the  fullest  dis- 
cussion of  the  merits  of  the  case  itself,  and  of  the  na- 
tional ability  to  do  it  as  determined  by  the  national 
development,  that  is  with  careful  examination  of  the 
relative  advancement  of  individuals  and  of  the  society 
they  constitute.  It  is  no  longer  doubtful  that  the 
general  interest  in  production  and  distribution  and 
also  in  the  public  health  should  be  secured  by  laws  reg- 
ulating these  matters.  When  the  aged,  the  destitute, 
and  the  otherwise  weak,  such  as  women  and  children, 
idiots  and  insane,  are  bereft  of  natural  guardian- 
ship in  the  family,  they  should  be  the  care  of  the  state. 
The  workman  should  be  allowed  free  play  both  for 
personal  and  associated  initiative,  should  be  compen- 
sated for  injury  not  due  to  his  own  negligence  and  his 
savings  should  be  guaranteed  in  state  savings-banks. 
The  state  should  likewise  provide  for  education  and 
museums  of  the  fine  arts. 

This  position  having  been  outlined  and  defined  al- 
most entirely  by  university  professors,  who  held  a 
congress  at  Eisenach  in  1872  for  the  purpose,  was  at 
once  stigmatized  by  the  old  school  as  a  new  form  of 
socialism:  and  nicknamed  the  socialism  of  the  chair. 
Without  cessation  its  doctrines  have  ever  since  been 
discussed,  expanded,  and  partially  applied.  Its  ad- 
vances in  England,  Germany,  France,  and  Austria 
have  been  rapid.  Even  the  stiff  Ricardian  economy 
has  been  restated  and  remodelled  by  its  adherents 
[Sidgwick,  in  1883]  and  no  one  any  longer  feels  the 
bondage  of  what  may  be  called  the  classical  political 
economy  which  professed  to  have  spoken  the  last  word 
and  strove  to  stifle  all  further  discussion.  The  general 
attitude  of  reasonable  men  to-day  is  that  if  the  state 


THE  NATION  AND  THE  INDIVIDUAL  313 


is  still  further  to  be  made  national  and  turned  into  an 
all-comprehensive  organism  by  thoroughly  socializ- 
ing it,  the  process  may,  as  indeed  it  must,  go  on:  that 
if  this  process  be  normal  and  gradual  no  particular 
or  special  wrong  will  be  done  to  any  individual  or  any 
generation  and  that  ample  time  will  be  given  to  Chris- 
tian men  to  exert  themselves  for  the  perfectibility  of 
man  and  society  on  Christian  lines. 

If  it  be  true  that  economy  cannot  be  studied  in  a 
single  nation,  but  must  be  a  subordinate  branch  of 
general  social  science,  then  the  transformation  of 
economic  into  political  principles  implies  that  such 
political  advance  must  be  general.  Antecedent  to 
the  great  war  of  1914-18  we  were  rather  inclined  to 
feel  that  our  nation  might  remain  external  to  the  gen- 
eral movement:  that  we  could  reiterate  the  Monroe 
Doctrine  and  stem  the  world  tide.  Amid  peace  and 
plenty  we  were  mildly  concerned  with  superficial  self- 
examination.  Were  we  still  on  the  ground  of  Adam 
Smith  in  politics  and  of  the  Ricardians  in  political 
economy?  Were  we  slowly  becoming  social  demo- 
crats or  were  we  more  disposed  toward  socialism  of 
the  chair?  Of  one  thing  we  were  confusedly  aware, 
that  we  were  not  standing  still.  There  was  peace, 
there  was  general  prosperity  of  a  material  kind: 
but  spiritual  concern  was  virtually  non-existent  and 
the  prickings  of  conscience  were  easily  stilled.  In 
a  leisurely  way  we  were 'examining  in  detail  our  entire 
social  system  and  smoothing  out  the  crumpled  rose 
leaves  which  somewhat  annoyed  us,  always  from  the 
standpoint  of  apartness.  We  were  transforming  a 
system  largely  agricultural  into  a  mixed  agricultural 
and  industrial  one.  Labor  agitators  had  kept  alive  a 
social  democracy  which  at  times  menaced  our  social 
repose.  A  vast  imported  proletariat  was  unable  to 
distinguish  between  its  conditions  here  and  those  in 
the  country  of  its  origin.    To  them  there  appeared 


314    THE  NATION  AND  THE  INDIVIDUAL 


to  be  an  alliance  of  government  with  plutocracy  which 
was  a  standing  threat  to  the  license  they  were  seek- 
ing under  a  democracy.  Roman  Catholicism,  in  prin- 
ciple anti-socialistic,  had  increased  enormously  in  mass 
though  not  in  proportion  to  the  whole,  and  was  dis- 
playing a  prominent  activity,  on  the  surface  very 
striking,  yet  manifestly  futile  in  opposing  the  labor 
movement.  The  growth  of  free-thinking  and  of 
tolerance  was  making  sceptics  and  infidels  more  de- 
fiant than  ever  before  and  the  most  sacred  things  were 
widely,  freely,  and  profanely  discussed.  Being  in  a 
condition  of  social  transition  we  were  in  a  ferment  of 
social  discussion  and  in  the  examination  of  social 
foundations  were  in  a  fair  way  to  undermine  them. 

Forced  by  the  German  outrages  into  the  war,  we 
suddenly  discovered  in  the  mass  what  the  elect  had 
long  since  perceived :  that  we  were  not  apart  from  the 
general  movement  at  all.  For  two  and  a  half  years  we 
struggled  to  keep  the  old  aloofness,  but  the  effort  was 
a  dismal  failure.  At  the  moment  when  the  fearful 
hosts  of  darkness  held  the  western  powers  in  a  strangle- 
hold we  were  transformed  and  almost  transfigured. 
Theories  sought  a  hearing  in  vain:  our  ordered  de- 
mocracy delegated  all  its  powers  to  its  own  chosen 
rulers  for  the  purpose  of  securing  instant  efficiency  in 
offensive  warfare  at  a  distance  of  3,000  miles  across 
the  Atlantic.  Our  decision  and  promptness  saved  the 
day  for  the  right  and  saved  likewise  our  own  self- 
respect.  By  this  fact  the  European  world  has  been 
revolutionized  as  never  before  in  history.  Human 
beasts  have  seized  the  power  in  Russia  and  thrown  the 
reins  on  to  the  back  of  anarchy's  wild  steeds.  In 
Germany,  Austria,  and  the  Slavic  lands  populations 
with  no  political  training  at  all  and  a  very  primitive 
social  organization  are  groping  for  orderly  government 
with  little  success.  What  styles  itself  socialism  makes 
up  for  its  own  dissensions  and  helplessness  by  a  noisy 


THE  NATION  AND  THE  INDIVIDUAL  315 


and  pernicious  activity  in  all  lands,  west  and  east. 
Over-hasty  optimism  concludes  that  there  is  a  new 
heaven  and  a  new  earth:  a  new  internationalism 
and  a  new  social  order  to  be  evolved.  Perhaps: 
but  perhaps  not.  The  experience  of  the  past  remains 
the  only  guide.  We  are  all  heartily  sick  of  the  su- 
perman of  Germany:  how  can  the  realms  of  inexperi- 
ence, ignorance,  and  selfishness  produce  a  better  ?  The 
quiet  and  determined  millions  are  all  alert,  the  more 
so  because  they  are  not  noisy.  That  the  world  of 
politics  and  economics  will  be  different  after  the  new 
situation  has  clarified  itself  is  unquestioned;  but  the 
dififerences  will  emerge  along  the  lines  of  experience 
and  history. 

In  the  meantime  the  guiding  classes  have  been  tak- 
ing stock  of  whence  we  have  come  and  whither  we 
are  going.  In  America  the  people  were  heard  almost 
before  the  clash  of  arms  had  ceased  in  a  clear,  loud 
demand  for  the  restoration  of  a  balance  of  powers 
between  the  legislative  and  executive  such  as  had  been 
suspended  for  war,  to  be  reestablished  for  peace.  It 
was  refreshing  to  hear  a  war-weary  executive  call  for 
the  plenitude  of  private  initiative  to  restore  condi- 
tions disturbed  temporarily  in  order  to  concentrate 
national  power  for  speedy  victory.  No  important  or 
influential  voice  suggested  the  abolition  of  any  single 
one  of  the  checks  and  balances  or  compromises  of  the 
Constitution.  The  American  people  ceased  to  swim 
in  the  tide  of  unreasoning,  indifferent  optimism  from 
which  for  fifty  years  they  had  viewed  afar  off  the 
troubles  of  Europe.  It  had  not  forgotten  its  disgust 
with  degrees  of  state  interference  which  slowly  and 
pitifully  reduced  the  man  to  the  condition  of  a  petty 
state  functionary;  destroying  all  opportunities  for 
personal  enterprise.  The  freedom  of  choice  in  the 
selection  of  any  career  whatsoever  proves  to  be  one 
between  some  dozen  state-regulated  treadmills.  An- 


3i6   THE  NATION  AND  THE  INDIVIDUAL 


other  of  the  lessons  learned  was  the  relative  importance 
of  local  and  general  government.  Most  Americans 
discovered  that  their  interest  had  been  largely  re- 
stricted to  federal  and  town  or  city  government,  the 
State  which  in  reality  controls  our  most  vital  domestic 
interests  had,  by  and  large  throughout  the  Union,  been 
utterly  reckless  in  its  meddling  with  private  life. 
The  legislative  halls  of  the  State  capitals  had  been  the 
sporting  places  of  theorists  and  faddists:  the  volume 
of  legislation  was  such  that  most  of  it  fell  into  dis- 
repute without  the  formality  of  repeal  and  we  were 
a  people  of  law-breakers  in  what  seemed  a  harmless 
but  was  really  a  very  dangerous  way.  There  began 
immediately  after  the  armistice  which  closed  hostili- 
ties a  careful  scrutiny  not  merely  of  what  the  federal 
government  must  relinquish  for  the  restoration  of 
former  checks  and  balances,  but  of  what  the  State 
governments  must  not  be  and  do. 

At  the  root  of  all  well-ordered  and  permanent 
government,  essential  to  the  life  and  prosperity  of 
the  nation,  is  the  question  of  taxation  and  the  public 
expenditure.  The  war  aroused  all  the  western  na- 
tions, including  America,  to  the  inequalities  and  in- 
consistencies in  existing  systems  of  taxation  and  to 
the  reckless  expenditure  of  public  moneys  alike  in  war 
and  in  peace.  The  federal  system  lends  itself  to  a 
mischievous  concealment  of  raising  funds  by  manifold 
forms  of  taxation,  and  to  an  unfair  distribution  of  the 
burdens.  It  is  too  easy  to  arouse  a  sectional  or  local 
feeling  antagonistic  to  the  welfare  of  the  people  as  a 
whole.  Nothing  short  of  such  appalling  outlays  as 
were  made  for  the  prosecution  of  war  and  reconstruc- 
tion could  bring  the  world  to  its  senses  regarding  im- 
perative reforms  essential  for  the  protection  of  the 
individual  in  the  national  state  against  overzeal  of 
rulers  untrained  to  meet  such  crises.  The  federal  state 
has  merits  far  transcending  those  of  centralized  de- 


THE  NATION  AND  THE  INDIVIDUAL  317 


mocracies,  but  it  also  has  its  weaknesses.  The  dis- 
crepancies in  the  divorce  laws  of  the  various  American 
states  make  the  Union  a  byword  among  nations. 
Under  certain  legal  conditions  a  pair  married  in  Maine 
and  crossing  the  continent,  may  be  from  the  mere 
fact  of  crossing  one  state  boundary  after  another  mar- 
ried and  unmarried  several  times !  Worse  than  this 
wrong  and  absurdity,  such  a  discrepancy  has  the 
tendency  to  discredit  and  disintegrate  the  most  sacred 
of  all  institutions,  the  family.  The  same  thing  has 
long  been  true  of  the  bankruptcy  and  exemption  laws 
for  the  protection  of  the  bankrupt,  a  fact  which  puts 
such  a  premium  on  dishonesty  as  nowhere  else  exists. 
To  fix  the  responsibility  for  legislation  is  very  difficult 
in  a  federal  democracy:  we  at  least  have  had  a  fairly 
long  experience  in  working  free  institutions,  but  the 
European  populations  so  cheerfully  contemplating 
the  formation  of  federal  republics  as  a  remedy  for  their 
ills  forget  how  totally  unpolitical  are  the  people  who 
will  have  to  exercise  the  duties  entailed  on  them;  ex- 
asperating is  the  disappointment  of  unfulfilled  hopes. 
The  buoyancy  of  our  western  folk,  its  self-reliance, 
and  the  simple  way  in  which  human  society,  a  most 
delicate  and  complex  organism,  is  regarded  by  it  have 
led  to  extravagance  and  trifling  in  adjusting  the  rela- 
tion of  the  man  to  the  state  which  borders  on  madness. 

The  United  States  has  long  been  the  most  expensive 
place  in  which  to  live  and  that  in  spite  of  its  abounding 
resources.  By  various  means  the  state  expropriates 
for  public  purposes  one-third  the  total  revenues  of  all 
property.  This,  moreover,  is  in  addition  to  a  volume 
of  charity  which  takes  from  the  individual  for  the  bene- 
fit of  the  needy  sums  impossible  to  calculate,  but  which 
are  unparalleled  in  any  land.  On  the  average  each 
productive  person  pays  two-fifths  of  his  gross  income 
to  church,  state,  and  charity,  before  he  enters  on  the 
enjoyment  of  his  own  for  himself  and  his  family.  A 


3i8    THE  NATION  AND  THE  INDIVIDUAL 


socialism  so  complete,  practical  and  extensive,  it 
would  be  hard  to  find  elsewhere.  When  it  comes  to 
state  intervention  for  the  positive  advantages  of  a 
single  person,  we  are  likewise  far  advanced.  While, 
as  was  said,  we  protect  the  debtor  by  laws  of  exemp- 
tion which  in  many  states  are  fantastic,  leaving  to  him 
his  homestead  and  all  the  necessities  of  life,  his  im- 
plements of  trade  and  in  some  states  a  certain  sum  of 
money,  houses,  lots,  and  horses,  until  he  is  able  to 
laugh  at  his  honest  creditor,  in  other  respects  we  limit 
the  producing  individual  in  very  stringent  rules  of 
conduct.  We  forbid  him  to  acquire  water-rights,  we 
regulate  traffic  easily  capable  of  abuse,  or  forbid  it 
altogether,  as  we  are  now  doing  with  the  liquor  traffic, 
we  compel  employers  to  provide  seats  for  their  shop- 
girls, we  give  workingmen  a  lien  on  the  property 
which  their  employer  as  contractor  is  creating  with  the 
owner's  money,  we  provide  not  only  free  common  and 
secondary  schools,  but  universities,  we  give  free  seeds 
to  farmers,  guarantee  the  consumer  against  adultera- 
tion, analyze  soils  gratuitously  for  land-owners,  give 
bounties  on  cane  and  beet  root  sugars,  coddle  the 
miner,  and  nurse  the  tillers  of  the  soil  as  if  they  were 
sickly  children.  We  tell  inn-keepers  who  they  shall 
receive,  force  insurance  companies  to  take  unwelcome 
risks,  create  boards  of  arbitrators  for  trade  disputes, 
and  determine  by  law  the  length  of  a  working  day. 
The  list  of  such  palpable  interferences  with  personal 
freedom  on  behalf  of  the  general  public,  already  long, 
is  daily  growing  longer.  Perhaps  every  such  measure 
is  just  and  legitimate ;  but,  if  so,  why  not  many  others  ? 
The  wrong  is  that  under  our  haphazard  system  such 
laws  are  passed  for  local  reasons  without  the  super- 
vision of  enlightened  public  opinion;  and  there  is  no 
recognized  principle  on  which  to  proceed. 

In  conclusion  it  is  evident  that  any  rescript  which 
merely  reduces  to  writing  a  settled  habit,  is  no  re- 


THE  NATION  AND  THE  INDIVIDUAL  319 


straint  for  those  who  habitually  so  behave,  but  be- 
comes a  severe  penalty  for  the  rest.  To  secure  the 
easy  execution  of  laws  we  must  make  the  habit  they 
represent  as  wide-spread  as  possible.  The  degree  of 
legislation,  therefore,  may  be  determined  by  the  homo- 
geneity of  the  people  and  may  be  voluminous  without 
being  burdensome.  But  where  is  the  independent 
thinker  to  find  room  ?  still  more  the  man  whose  con- 
duct is  eccentric?  where  shall  the  reformer  abide? 
It  seems  manifest  that  actions  not  criminal  in  them- 
selves or  destructive  of  society  shall  not  be  drawn 
within  the  legislative  sphere,  that  the  different  actions 
which  may  prove  harmful  in  a  certain  degree  shall  be 
as  little  regulated  as  possible  and  that  immoral  actions 
shall  be  ruthlessly  repressed.  The  only  absolute 
principle  that  can  be  laid  down  is  that  we  shall  not  take 
the  second  step  until  we  have  taken  the  first.  The 
present  state  of  society  should  be  strengthened  and 
purified  by  the  exercise  of  private  and  public  virtue 
with  a  minimum  of  both  coercive  and  directive  state 
action  upon  the  individual.  This  being  done  we  shall 
see  where  we  stand  and  not  take  a  leap  in  the  dark. 
The  historical  economists  will  have  then  done  their 
work  in  the  examination  of  tendencies  and  if  we  must 
have  a  socialized  state  we  shall  be  able  to  give  it  the 
character  it  ought  to  have:  that  of  a  moral,  responsi- 
ble, Christian  personality. 


Ill 

THE  STRUGGLE  FOR  PEACE 


I 


THE  IDEA  AND  PHILOSOPHY  OF  PEACE  M*^ 

STATE  FEDERATION  AND  WORLD  PEACE — HERO  AND  PROPHET  WORSHIP — 

WAR  AND  HISTORY — THE  PEACE  IDEA  IN  EMBRYO — THE  HEBREW  VIEW  

THE  SECULAR  CONCEPTION — WAR  AS  A  CONDITION;  OR  A  CRIME — THE 
FIRST  TRUE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  PEACE.  KANT — THE  WAR  CODE  OF  THE 

JEWS — THE  GREEK  ATTITUDE  TOWARD  WAR  THE  STRANGER  AS  AN 

ENEMY  AND  AS  A  FRIEND  THE  CHRISTIAN  DOCTRINE  OF  PEACE  THE 

SECOND  DEVELOPMENT  OF  THE  PEACE  IDEA — THE  INAUGURATION  AND 
EVOLUTION  OF  PEACE  SPECULATION  CRUCE,  OR  DE  LA  CROIX  OUT- 
LINE OF  HIS  PLAN — THE  THEOLOGIANS  OF  THE  SEVENTEENTH  CENTURY 
AND  WAR. 

The  highest  form  of  organized  human  society  so  far 
secured  being  that  of  the  nation,  among  the  various 
types  of  national  organization  the  most  efficient  is 
that  of  federal  representative  government.  It  is 
not  wholly  satisfactory  because  while  emancipating 
the  noble  energies  of  its  citizens,  it  also  liberates  the 
ignoble  impulses  of  designing  self-seekers.  More- 
over, it  has  proved  to  be  dangerously  expensive ;  even 
when,  as  is  rare,  office-holders  are  economical  with 
citizens'  money.  The  servant  of  the  community  has 
a  low  sense  of  responsibility  to  his  multifarious  em- 
ployer. But  with  all  its  faults  and  dangers,  some  in- 
herent, some  due  to  civic  profligacy,  a  federal  republic 
approaches  the  ideal  of  the  free  democratic  nation 
more  closely  than  any  other  form.  In  consequence, 
many  wise  and  good  men  believe  it  possible  so  to  ex- 
pand the  idea  as  to  create  a  federal  republic  of  many 
nations  and  nationalities  in  order  to  secure  and  enforce 
a  world  peace,  sufficiently  enduring  to  be  considered 
perpetual. 

Since  men  were  men  there  has  been  a  desire  for  lead- 
ership;  often  shamefacedly  concealed,  but  for  all 

323 


324 


THE  IDEA 


that,  real  and  importunate.  With  hero-worship  all 
are  famiHar;  but  there  is  a  tendency  to  forget  that 
prophet-worship  has  been  even  more  wide-spread. 
The  hero  is  the  warrior,  more  or  less  happy  and 
venerated,  but  the  human  storm-queller;  a  personage 
associated  with  organized  power  and  constructive 
statesmanship;  a  personification  indifferent  to  moral 
sanctions  of  individual  conduct,  except  as  they  are 
ancillary  to  the  compulsion  on  which  he  relies.  His 
philosophy  is  that  of  original  sin  and  total  depravity. 
The  prophet  is  the  idealist,  the  seer  of  human  per- 
fectibility, the  preacher  of  righteousness,  of  equality, 
of  pity,  and  of  love  for  all  mankind  irrespective  of 
condition  or  origin.  His  concept  is  one  of  least 
government,  least  law,  of  individual  self-determina- 
tion: theocracy,  if  he  be  religious;  anarchy,  if  infidel- 
ity give  vague  forms  to  his  impractical  philosophy. 
Yet  he  has  done  and  is  doing  his  full  share  of  the 
world's  regenerative  work,  quite  as  much  as  the  hero. 
The  perverts  among  his  followers  constitute,  however, 
the  most  serious  menace  to  progress. 

To  the  followers  of  both  hero  and  prophet,  to  all 
thoughtful  men,  killing  a  fellow  man  is  murder,  a 
crime ;  to  the  former  war  is  a  necessary  and  mysterious 
absurdity,  to  the  latter  a  criminal  primitive  curse,  a 
blot  to  be  erased  from  the  garb  of  humanity.  Primi- 
tive man  as  a  communal  group  and  as  a  part  of  the 
physical  world  knew  nothing  except  conflict  as  the 
condition  of  existence.  Emerging  into  prehistoric 
and  arrested  organization  the  life  of  his  community 
was  dependent  on  bloody  struggle.  In  classical  an- 
tiquity the  supreme  virtue,  manhood,  was  physical 
bravery,  military  superiority.  The  mediaeval  world 
of  feudalism  had  its  being  in  violence,  in  private  feuds 
and  robbery  by  force.  Early  modern  history  enlarged 
the  scope  of  warfare.  Later,  the  word  pacificism  ex- 
pressed the  superlative  of  scorn;  particularly  among 


AND  PHILOSOPHY  OF  PEACE  325 


French  and  German  writers  who  for  a  generation  past 
have  thought  in  no  other  terms  than  those  of  friend 
and  enemy,  implacably  antagonistic  one  to  the  other. 
Self-protection  and  the  mythical  cult  of  courage  wor- 
ship have,  throughout  the  past,  established  war  as  the 
sole  medium  in  which  noble  living  was  possible.  In 
the  words  of  Joseph  de  Maistre  it  is  the  "law  of  the 
world,"  and  Brunetiere  warps  the  notion  into  the 
form:  "a  condition  of  humanity." 

Nevertheless,  throughout  the  entire  historic  period 
there  have  been  voices  crying  aloud,  sometimes  in  the 
wilderness,  sometimes  on  the  housetops  and  in  the 
market-place,  that  man  is  a  moral  being  capable  of 
choice,  apart  from  physical  nature  and  lifted  high 
above  it;  that  the  state  he  has  created  has  likewise 
a  moral  quality,  however  imperfect ;  that  the  relations 
of  races,  peoples,  and  nations  are  not  necessarily  those 
of  hostility.  Through  the  teachings  and  warnings  of 
such  emancipated  souls,  from  the  days  of  Thucydides 
onward  an  embryonic  philosophy  of  peace  can  be 
discovered.  Embryo  it  has  remained  despite  the 
various,  sustained,  and  pertinacious  efforts  to  develop 
it  into  a  convincing  doctrine.  Down  to  our  day 
through  twenty  centuries  a  succession  of  writers 
describe  the  morality  of  man  as  predatory,  that  of 
the  wolf.  Such  goodness  as  they  think  is  inherent  in 
humanity  exhibits  itself  only  within  a  narrow  patri- 
archal society.  With  this  doctrine  of  a  cabined  and 
confined  morality  we  are  only  too  familiar,  Hobbes 
and  Spinoza  being  its  chiefest  prophets.  Locke  and 
Montesquieu  declared  man,  in  any  and  every  environ- 
ment, to  be  a  reasonable  being,  endowed  with  an  inner 
light.  The  third  and  truest  doctrine  has  been  that 
of  Aristotle  and  Grotius,  that  man  is  a  social  being, 
endowed  with  the  counter  instincts  or  antinomy  of 
self-ism  and  other-ism.  Care  for  himself,  care  for  the 
rest;  egoism  and  altruism. 


326 


THE  IDEA 


Yet  all  of  these  in  a  sense  predicate  the  inherent 
weakness  of  human  nature  and  regard  war  as  a  means 
to  peace.  The  Sophists  alone  considered  it  as  an  end 
in  itself.  Parallel  with  these  speculations  ran  the 
moral  and  religious  doctrine  of  individual  worth  and 
the  brotherhood  of  men.  And  from  the  latter  spring 
naturally  the  concepts  of  equality  and  of  brotherly 
love;  in  particular  of  love  for  your  neighbor;  better 
translated,  the  other  man,  even  the  stranger.  The 
Jewish  prophets  thinking  in  terms  of  one  only  true 
God,  thought  also  of  one  humanity,  one  law,  and  one 
equality  before  the  law.  Love  your  neighbor  as  your- 
self. They  did  not  regard  the  stranger  as  a  foe;  to 
him  as  to  the  widow  and  orphan  all  kindness  must  be 
shown.  This  is  Isaiah's  most  inspiring  theme.  For 
ages  and  ages,  the  splendor  of  his  teaching  was  re- 
garded as  the  rhapsody  of  a  poet.  Yet  the  elect 
heeded ;  his  was  an  earthly  millennium,  not  a  heavenly; 
it  was  a  literal  sword  which  was  to  be  beaten  into  a 
literal  ploughshare.  At  all  times  and  everywhere 
there  have  been  pacifists  basing  their  hopes  and  exer- 
tions on  his  philosophy  and  his  inspired  vision.  Their 
fatal  errors  have  been  haste,  overhaste,  and  bad 
workmanship.  In  particular  they  have  scorned  and 
weakened  the  state,  the  one  and  only  organization 
through  which  the  desired  goal  could  be  reached. 

And  why  ?  They  argue  that  because  the  state  alone 
can  wage  war  and  does  wage  it,  no  good  can  come  out 
of  it.  In  antiquity  the  state  was  the  be-all  and  end- 
all,  for  which  humanity,  personal  and  collective, 
existed.  Mediaevalism,  with  its  longing  for  a  catholic 
state  as  well  as  a  catholic  church,  looked  on  a  national 
state,  based  either  on  feudal  aggregation,  on  unity  of 
race,  tradition,  institutions,  or  on  common  welfare,  as 
the  spawn  of  the  devil.  It  required  the  new  birth  of 
classical  learning  in  the  fifteenth  and  following  cen- 
turies to  found  the  modern  state  in  the  new  knowledge 


AND  PHILOSOPHY  OF  PEACE  327 


of  law  as  the  basis  of  order.  Rights  were  thenceforth 
a  combination  of  reason  and  morality  in  the  secular 
sense.  The  Stoic  and  Aristotelian  philosophy  of  man 
as  a  social  being  underlay,  thenceforth,  the  social 
order  of  the  state  and  later  of  the  nation.  In  this  lies 
involved  the  status  of  peace  and  not  of  war  as  normal 
to  the  existence  of  humanity.  War,  followed  by  the 
tyranny  of  barbarism,  by  chaos,  by  the  migration  of 
peoples,  by  mediaevalism  and  ecclesiasticism — war 
with  all  its  concomitant  atrocities  had  devastated 
the  civilization  of  the  entire  Roman  world,  the  world 
of  law  and  order,  of  learning,  art,  and  refinement, 
Christian  Rome.  The  greed  and  frivolity  of  peo- 
ples, and  of  leaders  after  their  own  heart,  risked  on 
the  spin  of  fortune's  wheel  a  splendid  civilization 
slowly,  painfully,  constructed  by  the  ever  weaving 
human  spirit,  and  lost  everything;  measure,  propor- 
tion, order,  learning,  and  beauty. 

Our  world,  therefore,  entered  on  its  career  with  the 
conviction  that  the  whole  philosophy  of  world  life 
was  that  of  peace,  that  war  was  an  evil  in  itself;  some 
holding  that  it  was  a  necessary  evil  for  the  defense  of 
a  higher  civilization  against  the  perpetual  encroach- 
ments of  a  lower,  others  convinced  that  it  was  an  un- 
necessary crime  against  the  commission  of  which  a 
remedy  could  be  found;  and  a  few,  still  committed 
to  the  doctrine  of  predatory  warfare  as  a  "condition 
of  existence."  While  each  of  these  three  classes  pro- 
pounded its  view,  a  true  philosophy  of  peace  was  slow 
in  emerging.  Hegel's  so-called  philosophy  of  war  and 
history,  "whatever  is  is  rational,"  exhibits  a  pure 
utilitarianism  for  the  Prussian  monarchy;  the  panthe- 
ism and  determinism  of  Spinoza  are  the  negation  of  all 
choice  in  the  matter  of  peace  and  war.  Neither  sys- 
tem has  any  place  for  will  or  morality.  With  the  out- 
standing exception  of  two  giants,  Maupassant  and 
Victor  Hugo,  French  romanticism,  mysticism,  and 


328 


THE  IDEA 


a^stheticism  in  the  persons  of  their  greatest  writers 
are  all  supporters  of  the  predatory  idea  in  some  form. 
So,  too,  with  pessimism.  Schopenhauer  sneered  that, 
according  to  his  opponents,  God  created  the  world 
only  for  the  sake  of  peace.  Without  faith  in  the  be- 
yond, in  justice,  and  in  compensation  there  can  only 
be  one  maxim  for  worldliness,  pure  and  simple;  that 
might  makes  right.  For  the  materialist  and  infidel 
to  cry  out  that  might  must  be  transmuted  into  right 
here  below  is  futile  when  no  earthly  reason  can  be 
given  for  it.  Neighbor  love  goes  a  long  way,  but  your 
Marxist  scoffs  because  of  its  utter  failure  to  relieve 
physical  misery. 

The  first  appearance  of  a  true  philosophy  of  peace 
is  to  be  found  as  we  shall  see  later  in  the  writings  of 
Immanuel  Kant.  Indeed,  modern  philosophy  in 
general  dates  from  him;  what  was  before  him  among 
moderns  in  the  line  of  pure  speculation,  was  but  a 
pseudo-philosophy.  The  Greeks  were  the  construc- 
tive thinkers  of  the  ancient  world;  the  post-Kantians 
like  their  leader  exhibited  the  fallacies  of  the  British 
school  and  laid  firmer  foundations,  drawing  their  in- 
spiration largely  from  the  Greco-Roman  sources. 
From  the  conquests  of  humanity  over  material  na- 
ture had  been  wrung  a  series  of  proportions  and  rela- 
tions which  are  the  substance  of  a  true  philosophy. 
Science  thinks  about  things,  philosophy  about  those 
thoughts.  Of  such  abstractions  the  foremost  is  jus- 
tice in  a  new  sense,  a  guide  for  conduct  based  in  pure 
reason,  fitted  for  use  in  the  practical  reason,  and 
moderated  by  the  faculty  of  judgment.  Self-preserva- 
tion and  the  will  as  the  master  faculty  of  the  mind  are 
the  cornerstones  of  a  peace  philosophy. 

Of  course,  the  idea  of  peace  is  totally  different  from 
the  philosophy  of  peace,  as  radically  different  as  the 
means  and  character  of  peace  from  either  and  both. 
It  is  as  old  as  self-consciousness,  this  idea,  ever  present 


AND  PHILOSOPHY  OF  PEACE  329 


in  the  earliest  imperfect  civilizations  of  China  and 
India;  peace  under  compulsion  and  by  habit.  In 
both  it  was  a  mere  theory  as  indeed  it  was  in  Zoro- 
aster's teaching;  his  merit  was  to  deny  that  both  good 
and  evil  emanated  from  the  Creator;  that  light  and 
right  alone  were  the  divine  ideal:  an  ideal  to  be  real- 
ized when  a  vaguely  foreshadowed  Messiah  came.  To 
the  clashing,  disastrous  dualism  of  heathendom,  the 
monotheism  of  the  Hebrews  and  its  corollary,  the 
unity  of  man,  stands  in  sharpest  contrast.  We  think 
of  the  Jews  as  a  warlike  folk.  So  they  were;  but 
their  military  code  was  very  stern.  To  the  vanquished 
they  were  to  give  in  return,  not  merely  civilization  and 
humanitarian  law,  but  likewise  in  waging  war  they 
themselves  must  render  absolute  obedience  to  the 
seven  Noachian  laws  ;*  in  forming  their  treaty  of  peace 
their  strictest  code  was  rigidly  enforced.  No  battle 
or  siege  could  be  initiated  without  an  offer  of  peace; 
trees  and  springs  in  enemy  land  might  not  be  injured; 
perfect  cleanliness  and  rigid  observance  of  the  Levitical 
rule  in  camp  was  a  stern  duty:  and  nothing  short  of 
the  moral  degeneracy  and  indulgence  in  unrestrained, 
unnatural,  vice  as  obscene,  unclean,  and  a  menace 
to  all  righteousness,  justified  the  crushing  out  of  the 
Canaanites.  War  in  this  as  in  all  cases  was  consid- 
ered the  scourge  of  God ;  in  all  Hebrew  literature  the 
song  of  Deborah  is  the  solitary  instance  of  a  vindictive 
hymn  of  triumph.  Their  prophets  and  poets  speak  of 
God's  enemies  as  scattered,  foreseeing  a  totally  new 
earth  in  which  peace  and  good-will  prevail.  Judaism 
is  in  the  highest  degree  saturated  with  the  idea  and 
ideal  of  peace,  as  a  thing  to  be  realized  not  in  heaven 
alone,  but  on  earth.  For  this  the  basis  must  be  the 
absolute  equality  of  peoples  and  states,  among  whom 

*The  Noachian  laws  are  seven:  they  forbid  idolatry,  blasphemy, 
murder,  robbery,  and  adultery,  likewise  the  use  of  meat  cut  from  a  liv- 
ing animal;  and  command  the  establishment  of  courts  of  justice. 


330 


THE  IDEA 


there  can  be  no  question  of  superiority  or  inferiority. 

The  Greeks  share  with  the  Jews  in  the  marvel  of  an 
inexpHcable  cultural  force  which  elbows  its  imperious 
way  down  through  the  ages.  They  were  relatively 
few  in  number,  but  they  Hellenized  both  Rome  and 
the  Orient  and  the  culture  of  to-day  is  the  reciprocity 
of  Hebraism  and  Hellenism.  Like  the  Jews  they  spent 
ages  of  warfare  in  elaborating  and  establishing  the 
idea  of  peace;  five  centuries  elapsed  between  the 
dawn  of  their  history  and  the  age  of  the  great  pacifist 
Isocrates.  Jewish  influence  was  sadly  obscured  by 
qualities  of  the  race  repellant  to  outsiders;  that  of 
Greece  was  so  supremely  inherent  in  its  little  peoples 
as  to  create  the  almost  impassable  gulf  between  them- 
selves and  the  world  they  stigmatized  as  barbarian. 
Their  own  city-states  differed  so  widely  in  culture  that 
their  solitary  bond  of  union  was  far  more  religious 
than  political.  Yet  from  the  Amphyctionic  league 
they  finally  developed  the  federal  idea  and  created 
the  federal  state  before  their  separate  history  ended. 
Of  equality  among  men  and  states  they  knew  nothing 
at  the  outset,  and  their  one  further  advance  in  that 
direction  was  Plato's  concept  of  fraternity  in  the  "Re- 
public," a  most  seductive  Utopia  which  his  fertile 
brain  constructed  to  illustrate  his  philosophy.  In 
that  wonderful  dream  commonwealth  there  is  barely 
a  glimmering  of  the  peace  idea.  Aristotle  was  frankly 
the  apostle  of  war.  His  state  must  be  organized  for 
peace,  but  its  business  is  war,  defensive  and  offensive. 
The  Cynics  in  retort  sought  to  undermine  the  very 
concept  of  patriotism;  and  the  Stoics  alone  reached 
the  full  conception  of  every  man  as  a  friend  and  not 
an  enemy.  Like  Plato  they  would  intrust  politics  to 
the  sages.  Greek  poetry  from  Homer  and  Hesiod  on- 
ward is  rooted  and  grounded  in  the  peace  idea,  and 
their  historians  denounce  the  efforts  of  any  single 
Greek  state  to  rule  the  rest.    War  to  that  end  is 


AND  PHILOSOPHY  OF  PEACE  331 


abominable  and  finally,  as  was  said,  in  the  great 
orator  Isocrates  the  peace  idea  finds  its  full  expression. 

Between  the  mental  attitude  of  Greece  and  Rome 
toward  the  outsider  there  is  not  a  single  difference. 
The  contempt  of  Greece  was  intellectual;  that  of  the 
Romans  was  both  intellectual  and  physical  because 
the  Romans  were  a  conquering,  warrior  people,  sub- 
duing to  their  sway,  slowly  and  completely,  the 
whole  Mediterranean  world.  They  were  even  more; 
they  were  lawyers  administering  subject  peoples  under 
the  Draconian  laws  of  Rome,  modified  only  for  their 
own  advantage  to  make  peaceful  and  lucrative  inter- 
course with  the  outsider  possible.  Yet  among  even 
them  the  Greek  philosophy  of  the  Porch  wrought 
mightily  and  with  its  aid  there  came  at  last  to  that 
lawyer-warrior  people  a  sense  of  what  has  been  called 
the  immanent  justice  of  things.  Through  the  com- 
pelling charm  of  their  Virgils,  Ciceros,  and  Senecas, 
arose  a  sense  of  human  solidarity,  and  of  peace  as  the 
essential  condition  for  the  highest  life,  spiritual,  in- 
tellectual, and  above  all,  physical.  There  is  but  one 
Horace,  to  adorn  with  supreme  genius  the  common  lot 
in  a  world  at  peace:  the  elegant  ease  of  the  opulent 
gentleman  and  the  exquisite  gratifications  of  scholarly 
Epicureanism.  By  the  Romans  was  evolved  at  last 
in  the  Augustan  age  the  concept  of  perpetual  peace. 
Thereafter  their  literature  revels  in  it;  peace  in  the 
Roman  form  under  the  world  sway  of  Rome.  The 
historians,  even  the  bellicose  Tacitus,  dally  with  the 
thought  and  the  philosophers,  especially  Seneca, 
would  abolish  all  inequality  between  peoples  and  men. 
No  slaves,  no  subject  citizens,  or  peoples. 

With  Christianity  was  added  a  third  ply  to  the 
strand  of  civilization.  Its  author  and  his  religion 
being  alike  outcasts  and  pariahs  in  the  Roman  world, 
its  organization  was  totally  apart  from  the  existing  so- 
cial and  political  combinations.    Its  central  teaching, 


332 


THE  IDEA 


moreover,  was  immortality  and  its  kingdom  was  in  the 
world  beyond.  The  distinction  between  church  and 
state  was  therefore  sharp  and  the  friction  between 
the  secular  and  the  ecclesiastical  orders  is  the  sub- 
stance of  mediseval  history.  So  futile  and  embittered 
was  the  struggle  that  it  engendered  the  secular  state 
as  we  know  it,  a  political  system  hostile  to  all  the 
claims  of  ecclesiasticism;  though  careful  in  the  ex- 
treme of  religious  liberty,  considerate  of  all  conduct 
proceeding  from  conscientious  conviction.  For  one 
purpose  and  one  alone  the  Christian  might  be  a  war- 
rior, for  the  preservation  of  himself,  his  faith,  and  his 
Christian  civilization.  Throughout  the  writings  of 
the  church  fathers  there  is  in  consequence  an  apparent 
antinomy.  According  to  their  temperament  each 
emphasizes  what  attracts  his  thought.  The  Roman 
virtue  of  physical  courage  and  defensive  war  are  not 
forgotten,  but  for  most  of  them  Jesus  Christ  is  the 
prince  of  peace,  not  only  over  them  in  the  future  life, 
but  here  and  now.  In  fact,  doctrine  exerted  but  a 
slender  influence;  persecution  was  rife  and  the 
ecclesiastical  wars  of  that  age  were  well  nigh  as  bloody 
as  the  secular  ones  of  our  own.  It  is  estimated  that 
10,000,000  human  lives  were  destroyed  by  them. 

As  early  as  the  twelfth  century,  however,  was  sown 
the  mustard  seed  which  four  centuries  later  developed 
into  the  Reformation.  Turning  in  despair  from  the 
ineffectual  leadership  of  the  hierarchy,  a  merchant 
of  Lyons,  Waldus  by  name,  sought  his  rule  of  conduct 
in  the  Bible.  His  followers  survive  as  a  sect  into  our 
time.  With  naif  literalness  they  have  refused  all 
service  for  war,  have  denounced  capital  punishment 
in  every  form,  would  swear  not  at  all,  vowed  them- 
selves to  poverty,  and  called  themselves  the  "poor  in 
spirit."  Their  pacifism  was  extreme,  like  that  of  the 
Cathari,  an  unimportant  sect  of  social  fanatics;  but 
it  was  a  pacifism  which  through  Durant  led  to  founding 


AND  PHILOSOPHY  OF  PEACE  333 


the  first  peace  society  in  1182,  and  inspired  the  Quak- 
ers at  a  later  date.  So  horrible  was  the  disorder  of 
the  feudal  world  that  churchmen  began  to  talk  of 
peace  and  justice  in  the  secular  sense.  To  the  rob- 
bers and  murderers  the  church  refused  its  redeeming 
ceremonies.  Bounds  were  set  to  private  wars  through 
the  "Truce  of  God."  The  idea  of  peace  never  slum- 
bered, but  its  paths  were  devious  and  lost  themselves 
in  the  sloughs  of  rapine  and  murder.  The  dawn  of 
modern,  clear-cut,  many-sided  intimations  of  peace- 
value  cannot  be  found  until  after  the  fifteenth  cen- 
tury. The  rise  and  consolidation  of  modern  nations 
put  humanity  into  such  a  stride  that  the  good  and  the 
wise  seemed  to  behold  however  dimly  the  goal  of 
earthly  as  well  as  heavenly  peace;  perpetual  peace, 
far  off  to  be  sure,  yet  no  chimera,  a  realizable  possi- 
bility. The  humanists  were  its  most  ardent  sup- 
porters as  essential  to  the  welfare  not  alone  of  collec- 
tive man,  but  of  individual  man. 

Thenceforward  both  the  idea  and  the  philosophy  of 
peace  have  a  continuous  evolution.  There  are  fairly 
definite  conceptions  of  law,  national  and  international, 
of  sovereignty,  of  rights,  of  duty,  of  morals,  and  of 
justice;  basic  to  all  is  the  nation.  The  sanction  alike 
of  habit  and  force  is  the  state.  Machiavelli  may 
stand  for  the  apostles  of  war,  Erasmus  for  those  of 
peace.  By  the  close  of  the  sixteenth  century  the  ar- 
ray is  ordered,  and  the  question  of  perpetual  secular 
peace  squarely  stated.  Thenceforward  at  fairly  reg- 
ular intervals  were  written  and  published  treatises 
on  perpetual  world  peace,  more  or  less  elaborate;  a 
series  of  proposals  culminating  in  the  contemporary 
effort  of  to-day  at  realization.  Of  Queen  Elizabeth's 
"Great  Design"  for  a  federated  Europe  and  Henry 
IV's  somewhat  elaborate  plan  for  a  Christian  Republic 
of  Christian  States,  nothing  is  to  be  said  in  the  genetic 
record  of  peace  philosophy  because  both  were  feints. 


334 


THE  IDEA 


a  dalliance  with  indefinite,  popular  pacifist  yearnings 
for  military  and  political  ends:  to  thwart  Spain  and 
Austria.  The  list  of  writers  with  serious  purpose  is 
as  follows:  Emeric  Cruce  or  De  la  Croix  (1623); 
Grotius  (1625);  Locke  (1690);  William  Penn  (1693); 
St.  Pierre  (17 17);  Rousseau  (1754);  Bentham  (1786); 
Gondard  (1752);  and  Kant  (1795).  Each  of  these 
may  be  said  to  have  had  a  school,  that  is,  a  group  of 
minor  writers  accepting  their  premises,  but  modify- 
ing method  and  aim  in  some  particularistic  sense. 

Cruce's  treatise  is  contained  in  a  small  volume  now 
very  rare,  though  at  the  time  of  its  publication  it 
must  have  had  considerable  circulation.  Other  pub- 
licists of  the  same  epoch  appear  familiar  with  its 
contents,  especially  Grotius,  whose  famous  discussion 
of  public  law  was  published  only  two  years  later. 
But  of  this  there  is  no  evidence  whatever,  and  in  a 
sense,  Le  Nouveau  Cynee  (The  New  Helmet)  of 
Cruce  must  be  regarded  as  one  of  the  Utopias,  an  en- 
tertaining and  instructive,  but  ineffectual,  essay  with 
minimal  influence  on  thought,  speech,  or  conduct. 
As  a  monk,  a  Christian,  and  a  Frenchman  he  dislikes 
and  distrusts  nobody.  Non-Christians  are  in  God's 
hands,  even  on  them  he  will  not  sit  in  judgment. 
With  such  tolerance  the  obstacles  to  peace  disappear, 
those  alike  of  nationality,  of  confession,  and  of  race. 
His  peace  union  includes,  therefore,  all  peoples.  Un- 
less a  man  work  he  shall  not  eat,  therefore  the  pro- 
ductive men  alone  may  be  represented  in  peace  plead- 
ing before  a  court  which  they  alone  create.  Doctors 
and  accountants  practise  a  productive  science,  but 
jurisprudence  is  a  mere  jargon  of  thought-confusion; 
and  lawyers  merely  thwart  the  common  sense  of  plain 
men.  Those  responsible  for  war  are  the  princes  and 
theirs  alone  is  the  accountability.  Let  the  tribunal 
sit  in  a  neutral  city  like  Venice  and  its  members  be 
the  pope,  the  sultan,  the  emperor,  and  the  kings  of 


AND  PHILOSOPHY  OF  PEACE  335 


France  and  Spain,  These  five  shall  select  a  sixth 
member,  perhaps  the  duke  of  Muscovy.  All  other 
monarchs  may  ask  for  representation,  but  not  de- 
mand it. 

In  the  neutral  city  which  is  chosen  as  the  seat 
of  the  court  shall  reside  a  representative  of  every  peo- 
ple: principalities,  kingdoms,  empires,  and  common- 
wealths; a  plenipotentiary  ready  to  present  the  case  of 
his  government,  whenever  friction  may  arise,  either  in 
case  of  administrative  reforms,  which  above  all  others 
are  urgent,  in  connection  with  international  trade  and 
ocean  commerce,  or  in  matters  of  infringement  upon 
sovereignty  which  might  lead  to  war.  The  foremost 
duty  of  the  court  is  to  prevent  war  at  all  hazards. 
Should  the  court  be  unable  to  reach  a  decision,  then 
shall  the  popular  representatives  be  adjoined  to  it  as  a 
tribunal  of  appeal,  and  the  common  sense  of  the  plain 
people  representing  the  republics  be  the  ultimate 
arbitrament;  the  pope  and  the  king  of  France  are 
to  take  the  initiative  in  constituting  this  court.  Ap- 
pealing to  the  brotherhood  and  solidarity  of  mankind 
Cruce  believed  a  moral  sanction  would  suffice  to  en- 
force the  behests  of  his  peace  court,  but  should  any 
one  prince,  republic,  or  people  prove  recalcitrant,  the 
others  were  to  devise  means  of  making  their  displeas- 
ure, or  their  anger,  felt  by  the  transgressor;  in  the  last 
resort,  though  he  avoids  or  rather  glosses  the  notion 
of  physical  compulsion,  the  united  powers  would  of 
necessity  enforce  the  decision  of  the  appellate  court 
by  some  form  of  police  power. 

For  the  conception,  even,  of  a  proposition  so  broad, 
catholic,  and  at  bottom,  democratic,  had  Human- 
ism and  the  Renaissance  prepared  the  way;  the  ultra 
theologians,  like  the  Roman  Bellarmin,  and  the  Re- 
formed Calvin,  were  still.  Catholic  and  Protestant 
alike,  stout  defenders  of  war  as  essential  to  establish- 
ing the  kingdom  of  God  upon  earth.    Whether  the 


336  PHILOSOPHY  OF  PEACE 


sayings  of  Christ  and  the  Gospel  were  advisory  or 
mandatory  was  a  matter  of  secondary  importance, 
the  deepest  concern  was  the  destruction  of  heresy  and 
paganism,  by  the  power  of  the  material  sword  in  the 
hands  of  princes  obeying  the  behest  of  the  spiritual 
sword.  Secular  thinkers,  their  contemporaries,  be- 
gan on  the  other  hand  to  hold  and  propound  doctrines 
which  would  secure  peace  by  peaceful  means  primarily. 


II 


SUGGESTIONS  FOR  ENDURING  PEACE 

THE  SECULAR  PRINCIPLE  OF  RIGHT.  GROTIUS  LOCKE  AS  A  PEACE  SUP- 
PORTER— THE  QUAKERS.  PENN  AND  BARCLAY — BOSSUET,  FENELON 
AND  ST.  PIERRE — THE  PLAN  OF  ST.  PIERRE  AND  ITS  INFLUENCE — ROUS- 
SEAU'S  "extract"  FROM  ST.  PIERRE  AS  A  NEW  CONTRIBUTION — THE 
SCHOOL  OF  ANGE  GONDARD  BENTHAM'S  JURISTIC  PLAN  THE  GER- 
MANS BEFORE   KANT.     LESSING  THE  EIGHTEENTH   CENTURY  EAGER 

FOR  ENDURING  PEACE — KANT's  PEACE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  LAW — KANT'S 
PEACE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  HISTORY — HIS  SUMMARY  IN  THEORY  AND  PRAC- 
TICE— HIS  ORIGINALITY  AND  ADVANCE  FUTILITY  OF  EARLY  NINE- 
TEENTH-CENTURY IDEAS — THE  BETRAYAL  OF  KANT  IN  GERMANY 
BEGUN  BY  FICHTE — SCHELLING  AND  HEGEL  COMPLETE  THE  PROCESS. 

Few  names  are  of  such  world-wide  renown,  past  and 
present,  as  that  of  Hugo  Grotius.  Though  a  man  of 
profound  piety  he  saw  the  absolute  necessity  for 
clear  definition  between  revealed  and  secular  law;  and 
it  was  he  who  first  set  forth  convincingly  a  principle 
of  right  as  the  cornerstone  of  society  and  government 
entirely  separate  from  Church  and  Bible.  Since  his 
day  religion  and  law  are  two.  For  him  as  for  Aris- 
totle and  Thomas  Aquinas  man  is  a  social  being  and  it 
is  the  law  of  nature  which  sets  them  in  societies.  The 
validity  of  this  law  is  independent  of  all  interference 
or  superior  authority.  Convincing  the  world  of  this 
truth,  primarily  by  his  colossal  erudition,  but  almost 
equally  by  the  elegance  of  his  diction,  he  then  ad- 
dressed himself  to  investigate  the  horrors  of  war  as 
waged  in  a  manner  quite  as  bestial  as  that  so  mourn- 
fully familiar  to  the  twentieth  century.  The  age  of 
Gustavus  Adolphus  and  the  Thirty  Years  War;  of 
Shakespeare,  Milton  and  Bacon;  of  William  of 
Orange  and  Mary  Stuart;  was  an  age  of  tumultuous 
contradictions,  and  Grotius's  treatises,  especially  the 
monumental  one  on  the  law  of  war,  exhibit  puzzling 

337 


338    SUGGESTIONS  FOR  ENDURING  PEACE 


inconsistencies.  Establishing  the  foundations  of  so- 
ciety in  nature  and  peace,  he  was  yet  an  advocate  of 
war;  war  to  extend  and  establish  the  reign  of  law,  the 
law  of  man's  nature.  That  his  war-code,  like  that  of 
the  Jews,  accomplished  much,  is  true,  but  enduring 
peace  could  never  come  while  there  was  personal 
and  social  lust  for  expansion  and  gain. 

While  Grotius  lays  little  stress  on  the  contract 
theory  of  government,  yet  Locke  seems  to  have  ex- 
tracted his  form  of  that  theory  from  Grotius's  secular 
exposition  of  law.  Happiness  and  the  pursuit  of  hap- 
piness is  the  goal  of  both  individual  and  collective  man. 
What  the  individual  possesses  in  the  way  of  rights  he 
can  bestow  on  the  state,  no  more.  The  moral  man  may 
engage  only  in  a  just  conflict  and  the  state  can  do  the 
same,  no  more.  "I  may  compel  the  thief  to  restore 
my  purse,  but  I  may  not  take  his  without  becoming  a 
thief  myself."  So  with  the  state,  at  the  victorious 
close  of  a  just  war  it  may  demand  nothing  except  a 
modest  money  indemnity.  While  such  a  position 
may  appear  casual  yet  it  puts  war  as  a  condition  of 
human  nature  utterly  out  of  court  and  had  a  great  ^ 
influence,  in  its  moderation  and  sanity,  throughout 
the  English-speaking  world,  whose  leaders,  then  as 
now,  are  more  moved  by  suggestion  and  practical  com- 
mon sense  than  by  elaborate  systems  based  on  ideals. 
Indeed  all  of  Locke's  writing  was  in  a  sense  casual, 
intended  to  explode  some  specific  fallacy  or  solve  a  case 
of  experience.  Hence  its  tremendous  appeal  then  as 
now. 

Against  the  murky  background  of  predatory  war- 
fare and  ruthless  atrocity,  of  scepticism  and  decadence, 
presented  by  the  seventeenth  century,  the  adroit  and 
keen  reasoning  of  moralists  and  jurists  afforded  only  a 
dim  taper  of  illumination.  It  was  the  sect  of  the 
Quakers  which  lighted  a  brighter  candle  and  by  an 
almost  ferocious  devotion  to  their  pacifist  tenets  com- 


SUGGESTIONS  FOR  ENDURING  PEACE  339 


pelled  an  attention  which  had  far-reaching  results. 
In  one  sense,  they  took  a  backward  step  because 
they  returned  to  a  religious  basis  for  political  practice; 
but  on  the  other  hand,  they  forced  upon  an  indif- 
ferent world  a  conception  of  pacifism  as  an  essential 
political  doctrine  in  the  solution  of  European  troubles, 
then  as  now  embittered  and  menacing  on  the  humani- 
tarian and  social,  as  well  as  the  political,  side.  The 
substance  of  William  Penn's  essay  "Towards  the 
Present  and  Future  Peace  of  Europe"  (1693)  is  very 
simple.  As  men  have  submitted  themselves  to 
governments,  so  let  governments  submit  themselves 
to  a  sovereign  state  of  Europe.  To  its  Diet  shall  be 
submitted  all  differences,  by  that  Diet  shall  all  de- 
cisions be  reached;  the  last  resort  to  enforce  its  de- 
crees is  physical  compulsion  exerted  by  all  the  other 
governments  against  any  member  having  recourse  to 
arms.  There  were  to  be  thirteen  members  of  the 
federation  and  ninety  delegates,  with  twenty  more 
should  Turkey  and  Muscovy  be  admitted.  There  was 
to  be  open  discussion,  but  secret  voting;  and  a  three- 
fourths  vote  was  to  be  required  for  a  decision.  His 
firm  conviction  was  that  wars  were  the  conflicts  of 
princes,  then  as  now  a  fallacy.  No  slave  is  more 
abject  than  the  crowned  head,  absolute  or  otherwise, 
when  the  behests  of  the  masses  are  perceived.  This 
was  the  political  contribution  of  the  Quakers,  their 
foremost  theologian  Barclay  supplemented  it  by  a 
series  of  postulates  drawn  from  the  Scriptures  which 
were  even  more  influential  throughout  the  English 
world  than  the  plan  of  Penn,  for  which  public  opinion 
was  far  from  ready. 

Simultaneously  Bossuet  was  preaching  war,  and 
Fenelon  peace.  The  former  was  a  court  satellite, 
mellifluous  and  honeyed  as  were  his  periods;  the 
latter  was  a  philosophical  historian,  a  scholar,  and  a 
lover  of  his  kind.    With  Fenelon  began  a  superb  peace 


340   SUGGESTIONS  FOR  ENDURING  PEACE 


movement  in  French  literature  and  in  Germany 
Leibnitz,  setting  forth  his  doctrine  of  evolution  and 
perfectibility,  exhibited  a  movement  of  society  which 
could  only  result  in  peace  and  put  an  end  to  all  war. 
But  like  Fenelon  he  formulated  no  plan;  first  approv- 
ing and  then  rather  captiously  criticizing  that  of  the 
Abbe  St.  Pierre.  The  philosopher  of  movement  could 
not  work  in  harness  with  the  ecclesiastic  whose  thought 
was  all  of  equilibrium  and  stabilization.  They  had 
really  but  one  purpose  in  common,  the  annihilation  of 
Islam;  neither  conceived  of  mankind  as  a  unit.  The 
Thirty  Years'  War  left  Germany  in  a  condition  border- 
ing on  barbarism  and  the  Treaty  of  Westphalia  at 
its  close,  in  1648,  definitely  split  the  European  state 
system  into  Protestant  and  Roman  Catholic.  The 
conflicts  of  Great  Britain  and  France  were  momenta- 
rily appeased  by  the  Treaty  of  Utrecht,  in  171 3,  sixty- 
five  years  later,  to  the  decided  advantage  of  the  for- 
mer. Among  the  French  plenipotentiaries  at  the 
Dutch  city  was  a  man  whose  renown  as  the  author  of 
an  Utopian  design  for  world  peace,  and  as  a  stern,  un- 
yielding critic  of  Louis  XIV,  is  really  greater  than  his 
constructive  ability.  This  was  the  Abb6  of  Tours, 
Charles  St.  Pierre,  who  published  at  Utrecht  in 
the  very  year  of  ratification,  a  project  for  perpetual 
peace,  expanding  it  finally  into  three  volumes  (17 17). 
It  was  written  under  the  influence  of  Henry  IV's 
Grand  Design  and  contemplates,  as  has  been  indicated, 
a  confederation  of  Christian  sovereigns.  His  "Proj- 
ect" is  verbose  and  dull.  But  so  pure  and  spot- 
less was  his  Christian  character,  that  he  was  beloved 
by  all  his  high-minded  contemporaries.  Even  Vol- 
taire respected  and  visited  him.  To  the  friends 
inquiring  how  he  felt  on  the  threshold  of  departure 
for  the  last  journey,  he  replied:  as  if  I  were  leaving 
for  a  trip  to  the  country.  For  the  publication  of 
an  elaborate  and  destructive  attack  on  the  king's 


SUGGESTIONS  FOR  ENDURING  PEACE  341 


policies  he  had  been  expelled  from  the  Academy,  but 
his  conduct  under  obloquy  turned  the  shame  to  glory. 

Accordingly  posterity  has  considered  his  loftiness 
of  purpose  and  purity  of  soul  as  entitling  his  work  to 
far  higher  consideration  than  inherently  it  deserves. 
It  provides  for  a  diet  of  plenipotentiaries  representing 
the  Christian  sovereigns,  sitting  in  permanence,  guar- 
anteeing the  sovereignty  and  territory  of  each  existing 
state,  preeminently  supported  by  proportionate  con- 
tributions, whose  decisions  shall  be  enforced  by  an 
international  army  and  whose  rules  shall  be  the  con- 
stitution of  a  European  republic.  Cardinal  Fleury 
said  he  had  forgotten  to  provide  for  an  army  of  mis- 
sionaries to  persuade  the  hearts  of  princes.  Leibnitz 
remarked  that  while  rulers  were  protected  against 
their  subjects,  the  latter  had  no  redress  against  the 
tyranny  of  rulers:  and  Rousseau,  at  a  later  date,  made 
the  same  criticism  his  own.  These  subversive  reflec- 
tions were  sufficient,  of  course,  to  exhibit  its  visionary 
character.  But  the  ancillary  suggestions  made  a 
deep  and  lasting  impression.  In  the  sessions  of  his 
Diet,  supposed  to  be  sitting  at  Utrecht,  there  should 
be  used  the  everywhere  prevailing  language,  French; 
there  would  emerge  a  common  system  of  weights  and 
measures,  a  common  calendar  and  coinage  and  good 
order  would  at  least  prepare  the  way  for  further 
advance.  St.  Pierre  particularly  emphasized  in  Henry 
IV's  design  the  administration  of  justice,  the  regenera- 
tion of  international  finance,  the  uniformity  of  militia 
and  police  systems.  To  all  critics  he  replied  that  his 
plan  was  no  chimera,  and  in  regard  to  the  unification 
throughout  the  civilized  world  of  sentiment  regarding 
administrative  law  in  international  affairs,  time  has 
justified  him.  Treaties  have  long,  in  theory  at  least, 
taken  precedence  over  municipal  law.  And  the  de- 
mand that  the  pen  shall  be  mightier  than  the  sword  is 
now  universal.    Probably  St.  Pierre's  influence  is 


342    SUGGESTIONS  FOR  ENDURING  PEACE 


strongest  in  Montesquieu,  Condorcet,  and  Thomas 
Paine,  but  the  peace  lovers  of  his  century  with  no 
exception  were  powerfully  influenced  by  him. 

Rousseau's  contribution  to  peace  Utopias  is  in  the 
form  of  an  extract  from  St.  Pierre's  voluminous  work, 
and  commentaries  on  his  various  positions.  Firmly 
convinced  that  the  golden  age  of  the  past  when  men 
were  good  and  free  must  come  again,  an  enthusiastic 
optimist  and  ardent  apostle,  fiery  in  thought  and  lan- 
guage, Rousseau  was  the  popularizer  of  St.  Pierre's 
ideas;  to  such  an  extent  that  his  forerunner's  dulness 
was  virtually  forgotten  in  his  brilliancy,  and  in  total 
disregard  of  his  own  explicit  statements  the  *'  Extract" 
has  been  thought  an  original  contribution.  What  he 
did  enforce  as  his  own  was  the  content  to  St.  Pierre's 
rather  empty  form.  War  cannot  be  eliminated  by 
violence,  i.  e. ,  by  war.  There  must  be  a  general  unity 
of  will  among  all  peoples,  and  within  each  state  a 
harmonious  life  between  rulers  and  ruled.  Natural 
boundaries  like  the  Pyrenees  or  the  Rhine  are  ob- 
stacles only  in  so  far  as  on  both  sides  are  cultivated 
divergent  interests.  War  and  tyranny  are  indissolu- 
ble and  autocracy  must  cease  forever.  Moreover,  a 
federation  of  states  can  of  itself  never  bring  or  precipi- 
tate peace.  Henry  IV's  Great  Design  was  really  a 
design  for  war,  he  explained;  to  overwhelm  two 
despotic  states.  Nevertheless,  while  the  minds  of 
princes  and  peoples  must  be  ploughed,  harrowed,  and 
sowed  in  patient  preparation,  there  can  be  no  peace 
without  a  federation.  With  some  modification  of 
St.  Pierre's  list  of  member  states  he  heartily  approves 
the  general  plan;  when  the  hour  has  struck.  In  a 
briefer  essay  written  twenty  years  later,  on  the  eve  of 
the  European  revolution,  he  adds  to  what  he  had 
written  earlier  a  clarion  call  for  liberty,  first  and  al- 
ways, as  the  condition  of  peace.  Of  economic  peace 
there  is  no  suggestion  in  Rousseau  or  in  contemporary 


SUGGESTIONS  FOR  ENDURING  PEACE  343 


European  writings  except  in  one  of  Diderot's  political 
fragments,  wlicre  he  predicts  that  in  the  future  trade 
Avill  occupy  the  thoughts  of  men  far  more  than  war. 

This  element  was  largely  furnished  by  Ange  Gon- 
dard,  whose  "Peace  of  Europe"  was  published,  to  be 
sure,  two  years  before  Rousseau's  "  Extract."  Never- 
theless logically,  and  through  its  subsequent  influence, 
he  and  his  school  are  the  successors  of  the  Geneva 
romanticist.  While  there  are  current  several  details 
of  a  biographical  sort  about  Ange  Gondard,  they  are 
almost  certainly  fictitious  and  the  name  is  a  pseu- 
donym for  some  unknown  scholar  of  marvellous  erudi- 
tion, and  keen  discernment,  a  constructive,  philosophic 
thinker.  To  what  had  gone  before  in  suggesting  plans 
for  world  peace,  he  added  after  a  masterly  historic 
review  two  fundamental  ideas.  First,  a  long  armistice 
of  thirty  years,  as  the  indispensable  preliminary  to 
forming  a  league:  and  second,  a  substantial,  if  not  a 
complete,  disarmament.  For  him  war  is  not  a  neces- 
sary evil;  the  basis  of  peace  is  ethical  and  only  in- 
cidentally utilitarian,  St.  Pierre  had  proposed  a 
federal  army  to  punish  any  recalcitrant  prince; 
Gondard  suggested  a  fine  of  40,000,000  livres  to  be 
collected  by  moral  force  under  the  ban  of  all  Europe. 
So  important  is  this  suggestion,  that  it  makes  a  double 
appeal  of  sound  sense,  which  has  ever  since  been  ring- 
ing in  the  ears  of  the  wise ;  that  for  rest  and  serenity, 
as  a  condition  antecedent  to  forming  a  commonwealth 
of  Europe,  that  for  such  a  diminution  of  armaments  as 
to  discourage  all  thought  of  war. 

In  the  long  line  of  British  men  of  letters  the  praise 
of  peace  is  a  favorite  theme,  but  the  first  to  elaborate 
a  formal  plan  for  national  federation  to  enforce  peace 
was  Jeremy  Bentham,  the  most  famous  of  the  utili- 
tarian philosophers.  It  was  a  portion  of  an  essay 
on  international  law  and  his  introduction  is  a  care- 
ful analysis  of  what  has  hitherto  produced  war.  There 


344    SUGGESTIONS  FOR  ENDURING  PEACE 


appear  to  him  several  forms  of  dynastic  short-sighted- 
ness and  selfishness  all  of  which  arise  from  the  mis- 
management of  domestic  affairs  in  politics,  religion, 
and  trade,  and  the  insincere  disregard  of  what  is  due 
in  like  matters  to  foreign  nations.  It  is  not  the  par- 
ticular, but  the  general,  utility  which  must  be  con- 
sidered. To  this  end,  begin,  he  says,  by  codifying 
existing  usages  in  international  relations  and  make 
specific  those  still  indeterminate;  then  we  may  in- 
augurate further  international  legislation.  To  avoid 
misunderstandings  of  any  rule  or  rules,  carefully  edit 
every  sentence  with  a  view  to  absolute  clarity. 
Further;  minimize  armaments  and  emancipate  all 
colonies,  the  safeguarding  of  which  by  fleets  and 
garrisons  is  intolerable  in  cost  and  is  a  perpetual 
invitation  to  international  exasperation.  But  the 
indispensable  guarantee  of  peace  is  an  impartial 
tribunal,  a  congress  to  pronounce  judgments  and  en- 
force them  by  putting  any  recalcitrant  prince  or  peo- 
ple under  the  general  ban.  As  a  sanction  he  believes 
public  opinion  to  be  amply  sufficient  without  a  federal 
army.  His  historical  instance  is  this.  In  1788  the 
king  of  Sweden  declared  war  on  Russia,  and  both 
army  and  nation  refused  compliance;  by  the  sheer 
strength  of  national  opinion  the  fate  of  war  and  peace 
was  decided.  Bentham's  ' ' utility ' '  in  the  field  of  public 
law,  it  may  be  remarked,  is  after  all  identical  with 
justice.  His  contribution  to  pacifism  lies  almost  en- 
tirely in  his  plea  for  an  incipient  codification  of  public 
law  and  his  forceful  statement  of  ideas  less  clearly  and 
systematically  stated  by  his  predecessors.  It  was, 
perhaps,  the  irony  of  fate  that  on  the  very  morrow  of 
his  death  international  law  should,  for  nearly  a  genera- 
tion, have  been  scorned  and  scoffed  at  in  the  Revolu- 
tionary epoch;  but  that  very  fact  stiffened  and 
strengthened  his  doctrine  in  the  succeeding  generation. 
The  most  terrible  crime  of  German  desperation  has 


SUGGESTIONS  FOR  ENDURING  PEACE  345 


been  its  betrayal  of  its  greatest  prophet,  Immanuel 
Kant.  Before  liis  day  German  thought  was  largely 
concerned  with  peace  from  the  viewpoint  of  ideas  and 
humanity.  So  far  did  the  humane  consideration,  the 
oneness  of  mankind,  outrun  the  rest  that  in  a  strange 
confusion  opposite  camps  were  formed  in  the  dispute 
as  to  whether  a  patriot  could  be  a  cosmopolitan  or  vice 
versa.  Lessing  alone  maintained  convincingly  that 
you  could  be,  indeed,  must  be,  both;  at  one  and  the 
same  time.  A  retrospect  exhibits  four  types  of  peace 
plans,  founded  respectively  on  practical  politics  (St. 
Pierre);  on  philosophical  history  (Rousseau);  on 
utility  (Bentham),  and  on  an  alliance  between  religion 
and  politics  (Penn).  Every  one  of  these  elements 
is  combined  in  the  peace  plan  of  Immanuel  Kant, 
both  at  the  opening  of  his  treatise  on  ethics  and  juris- 
prudence, and  at  the  close  of  his  philosophy  of  history. 
What  makes  Kant  so  prominent  a  landmark  in  the 
history  of  thought  is  that  he  routed  all  the  forces  of 
empiricism  and  inaugurated  the  absolutely  new  critical 
method  in  philosophy,  a  method  which  cannot  per- 
mit the  examination  of  facts  as  such  without  a  search- 
ing analysis  of  the  transcendent  faculties  by  which  we 
know  facts.  Exactly  as  he  was  the  mediator  between 
positivists,  sceptics,  and  pessimists,  so  was  he  the 
superior  of  all  his  predecessors  in  the  field  of  pacifism. 
With  current  events  Kant  struggled  manfully  to  have 
no  concern  lest  they  becloud  a  mind  that  was  fully 
ripe  and  at  the  height  of  its  productivity  during  the 
revolutionary  epoch;  in  1789  he  was  sixty-five  years 
old,  but  hale,  observant,  and  keen. 

About  one  thing  the  eighteenth  century  appeared 
to  be  seriously  concerned,  the  foundation  of  a  system 
to  establish  and  preserve  peace.  And  the  plans  we 
have  briefly  passed  in  review,  though  falling  among 
tares  in  a  world  of  dynastic  turmoil,  one  and  all,  with 
no  exception,  fell  among  fertile  and  receptive  minds 


346   SUGGESTIONS  FOR  ENDURING  PEACE 


in  the  world  of  thought.  Everything  was  ready  for 
the  advent  of  Kant's  mediatory  work.  Yet,  as  in  the 
case  of  Bentham,  it  was  the  irony  of  fate  that  the 
stress  and  tension  of  social  and  economic  iniquities 
throughout  Europe  were  so  overstrained  that  the  crust 
burst  and  the  volcano  of  discontent  became  active  at 
the  very  moment  when  his  plan  was  ripe  to  prepare 
the  way,  peacefully,  for  every  needed  reform.  Rock- 
fast  on  the  theoretical  side,  the  elderly  man,  human 
through  and  through,  was,  in  spite  of  his  futile  at- 
tempts at  aloofness,  shaken  by  the  convictions  of  the 
epoch ;  and  on  the  practical  side  he  is  not  infrequently 
contradictory  in  his  precepts.  In  the  course  of  his 
discussions  he  condemns  all  standing  armies,  but 
pleads  for  universal  military  service  in  a  national  mili- 
tia; intervention  by  one  state  in  the  affairs  of  another 
is  the  very  essence  of  peace  federation,  but  he  con- 
demns it  as  incompatible  with  autonomy.  In  one 
place,  he  pleads  for  passive  obedience  to  constituted 
authority,  and  in  another,  recognizes  the  right  of  rev- 
olution in  the  interest  of  progress.  For  such  venial 
inconsistencies  the  mad,  headlong  rush  of  revolution 
is  a  sufficient  excuse.  He  did  have  the  perspective  of 
space  from  quiet  Konigsberg  to  the  day  of  his  death 
in  1804,  but  he  did  not  have  that  of  time,  and  both, 
though  useful  forms,  essential  forms  in  thought,  were 
after  all  forms  and  nothing  more;  with  no  reality  or 
content.  Since  he  could  not  secure  both  he  veered 
first  one  way,  then  another,  a  pardonable  error. 

The  first  Kant  on  the  shores  of  the  Baltic  was  a 
Scottish  immigrant  who  seems  utterly  to  have  failed 
in  improving  the  material  conditions  of  his  family, 
for  his  son  was  a  humble  saddler  in  Konigsberg; 
but  his  grandson,  a  physically  frail,  hollow-chested, 
almost  deformed  little  man  five  feet  tall,  was  yet  the 
intellectual  giant  whose  work  is  justly  held  to  have 
been  as  epochal  in  the  world  of  opinion  as  was  the 


SUGGESTIONS  FOR  ENDURING  PEACE  347 


Revolution  in  the  sphere  of  history;  he  was  in  his  sim- 
plicity of  habit,  his  clarity  of  exposition,  and  his  in- 
tellectual bias  far  more  Gallic  or  Celtic,  at  least  in 
heredity,  than  Teutonic.  Central  to  his  philosophy 
of  law,  for  example,  was  the  doctrine  of  natural 
rights,  innate  and  inherent,  not  inherited.  "To  limit 
thine  own  freedom,  that  the  freedom  of  all  others  may 
be  consonant  therewith  in  accordance  with  a  uni- 
versal law,"  was  his  formula  and  the  basic  principle 
of  his  jurisprudence.  Right  reason  is  the  source 
of  all  law,  and  the  state  exists,  not  for  the  promotion 
of  happiness,  but  for  the  conservation  and  adminis- 
tration of  justice.  Pure  practical  reason  is  his  def- 
inition of  the  will,  which  as  such  is  self-determining 
and  autonomous.  The  moral  law  and  freedom  are 
one,  a  unity  which  is  the  condition  of  being  and  also 
of  knowledge,  the  link  between  the  inner  and  the 
outer  worlds.  The  individual  life  is  consequently 
conduct;  the  collective  life  is  history — present  and 
past,  social  and  political.  The  realization  of  the  per- 
son and  the  people  is  the  goal  of  peace.  Kant  appro- 
priated Rousseau's  form  of  the  contract  theory  as  the 
origin  of  the  state,  but  not  concretely  as  did  the 
Genevan;  only  as  a  starting-point  and  as  a  purely 
regulative  idea.  To  banish  license  and  realize  justice 
is  the  agreement  of  citizens  in  the  state,  and  if  civic 
relations  within  it  are  the  sole  care  of  the  state,  how 
much  more  essential  is  it  that  the  relations  of  such 
states  to  each  other  should  be  controlled  by  justice. 
If  international  justice  be  administered  and  enforced 
by  an  international  court,  then  disappears  from  on 
earth  the  worst  possible  form  of  license,  the  sum  of  all 
bestiality  and  iniquity:  war.  As  men  have  devised 
the  state  to  secure  law  and  order,  so  they  may  hope 
and  labor  to  devise  a  republic  of  states  to  secure  inter- 
national law  and  order  and  relegate  war  to  oblivion. 
To  Kant  it  was  further  manifest  that  the  philosophy 


348   SUGGESTIONS  FOR  ENDURING  PEACE 


of  history  pointed  to  the  same  goal  as  the  philosophy 
of  law.  In  this  Kant  divorced  himself  from  Rousseau, 
who  believed  in  the  actuality  of  a  bygone  golden  age 
and  its  complete  restoration  in  the  future.  Man  as 
conceived  by  Kant  is  not  inherently  good;  on  the 
contrary,  he  is  prone  to  evil.  The  short  life  of  an 
individual  may  suffice  for  regeneration,  redemption, 
and  preparation  for  immortality,  but  not  for  the  per- 
fectibility of  mankind,  a  species  on  the  face  of  the 
planet  which,  for  an  indefinite  duration  of  time,  con- 
tinues to  live  and  expand  upon  it.  Its  history  is  the 
story  of  the  human  spirit,  active  and  passive.  The 
moment  man  recognizes  liberty  of  act  and  choice,  in 
the  exercise  of  reason,  he  severs  connection  with 
physical  nature,  and  becomes  a  moral  being;  launched 
on  a  moral,  social,  political  evolution,  the  path  of 
progress,  the  advance  from  simplicity  to  complexity, 
but  not  necessarily  to  confusion.  Disdaining  stagna- 
tion and  pessimism  as  unthinkable  he  sees  a  continuous 
movement  through  numberless  stages  from  the  good 
to  the  better.  The  proof  of  this  was  for  him  the  gen- 
eral enthusiasm  with  which  the  German  people  had 
hailed  the  eighteenth-century  revolution.  Progress, 
he  thought,  with  Vico,  the  great  Italian,  might  be 
interrupted,  but  never  stopped.  The  autonomy  be- 
tween liberty  and  social  control  he  fully  recognized  in 
his  famous  simile  of  the  trees  in  the  open  and  the  trees 
in  the  wood,  the  former  in  a  state  of  nature  crooked 
and  arbitrary,  and  of  little  worth,  the  latter,  tall  and 
straight  and  useful.  He  further  confesses  the  conflict 
in  the  double  human  nature  of  every  one,  the  longing 
for  solitude,  the  longing  for  society;  necessity  mini- 
mizes the  former  and  strengthens  the  latter.  When 
liberty  and  law,  self  and  society,  pass  onward  from 
mutual  enmity  in  the  natural  state  to  harmony  in  a 
human  world,  then,  and  then  only,  can  the  reign  of  law 
supplant  the  upheavals  and  disorders  of  force. 


SUGGESTIONS  FOR  ENDURING  PEACE  349 


These  doctrines,  found  measurably  in  his  ethics, 
more  fully  in  his  criticism  of  Herder's  philosophy  of 
history  and  still  more  fully  in  the  theory  of  law,  their 
author  collected  into  a  tract  which  he  published  in 
1795.  While  there  is  no  conclusive  evidence  that  this 
sketch  was  his  confession  of  faith,  a  creed  in  the  possi- 
ble realization  of  which  he  fully  believed,  yet  the  gen- 
eral tone  which  he  employs  in  the  treatment  of  the 
theme  whenever  he  touches  it,  leads  to  the  convic- 
tion that  the  articles  enumerated  by  him  were  those 
which  he  believed  could  be  rendered  operative  rules 
of  national  conduct,  at  least,  when  a  world  exhausted 
and  panting  from  revolutionary  warfare  should  come 
to  its  senses.  That  his  doctrine  of  perpetual  peace  is 
soundly,  reasonably  derived  from  his  philosophy  as  a 
whole,  and  not  from  philanthropy,  sentimentalism  or 
pietism  gives  it  a  quality  which  no  other  possesses 
and  tends  to  prove  that  he  himself  considered  it  no 
dream.  The  probability  amounts  to  conviction  when 
we  read  the  concise,  clear,  convincing  statement  of 
its  terms,  which  are  six  in  number.  I.  There  can 
be  no  peace  with  a  nation  harboring  the  least  purpose 
of  renewing  war;  II.  No  existing  state,  small  or  large, 
can  be  acquired  from  another  by  inheritance,  exchange, 
or  gift;  III.  Standing  armies  are  to  be  totally  abol- 
ished; IV.  There  shall  be  no  public  loan  concerned 
in  any  way  with  war  or  peace  in  foreign  affairs ;  V.  No 
intervention  by  one  state  in  the  constitution  or  govern- 
ment of  another;  VI.  No  state  at  war  shall  engage  in 
any  atrocious  practice  which  might  disturb  reciprocal 
confidence  at  the  conclusion  of  peace;  no  assassina- 
tions, poisonings,  violence  of  terms  of  surrender,  or 
of  armistice;  no  conspiracy  within  the  enemy  state. 
These  six  points  are  a  preamble ;  the  actuality  of  peace, 
its  form,  is  contained  in  three  paragraphs,  the  first, 
reiterating  its  legality;  the  second,  outlining  its  con- 
stitution in  a  league,  not  of  states  but  of  peoples,  un- 


350   SUGGESTIONS  FOR  ENDURING  PEACE 


der  an  international  law,  not  of  war  but  of  peace; 
and  the  third,  emphasizing  world-citizenship  or  the 
right  of  every  peaceable  burgher  to  go  where  he  likes 
and  enjoy  the  protection  of  the  laws.  Since  man 
alone  of  all  sentient  beings  can  live  everywhere,  it  is 
his  destiny  to  cover  the  earth.  Peace  once  established, 
the  manifest  advantage  in  all  the  interchanges  of 
human  life  everywhere  will  sufficiently  guarantee  its 
perpetuation. 

It  is  in  Kant's  fifth  article,  which  posits  non-inter- 
vention, that  the  climax  of  his  argument  is  reached. 
Monarchy  has  been  concerned  to  subjugate  other 
states  in  order  to  increase  the  number  of  its  subjects,  to 
secure  more  soldiers  and  more  funds  for  further  in- 
crease of  men  and  money.  Such  contests  ended,  every 
state  becomes  of  necessity  a  commonwealth,  and  a 
people's  league  a  certainty.  The  federal  union  will 
include  all  states  and  the  federal  peace  be  enforced 
both  morally  and  physically,  compulsion  being  pri- 
marily legal,  but  ultimately  material  in  some  form,  but 
sure  to  be  minimized  to  the  vanishing  point  with  the 
cultivation  of  the  mind  and  the  consequent  advance 
in  the  arts  of  peace.  It  is  the  mechanism  of  regenerate 
human  nature  on  which  reliance  must  be  placed  for 
the  perpetuation  of  that  environment  in  which  it 
struggles  toward  perfection.  Like  every  trained  work- 
man Kant  took  his  matter  where  he  found  it.  But 
St.  Pierre  he  outstrips  in  ethical  emphasis,  Bentham 
in  legal  stress,  and  Rousseau  in  that  of  reality  and 
form.  Finally,  unlike  all  other  pacifists,  peace  is  for 
Kant  an  end  in  itself  and  not  a  means  toward  an 
idealistic,  unrealizable  golden  age  of  stagnation.  If 
there  is  to  be  peace  on  earth,  and  there  can  be,  beyond 
that  goal  is  an  endless  vista  of  generous  rivalry  and 
invigorating  contests  for  the  brotherhood  and  freedom 
of  men.  Of  happiness  and  an  unobtainable  equality, 
equality  in  any  respect  except  opportunity,  there  need 


SUGGESTIONS  FOR  ENDURING  PEACE  351 


be  no  discussion  in  accents  of  a  sweetish,  cloying, 
sentimentalism. 

The  French  radicals  proved  so  intolerable  in  their 
exaggerated  bombastic  verbiage  and  in  their  atro- 
cious behavior  that  Napoleon,  the  storm-queller,  the 
tamer  alike  of  anarchy  and  hereditary  autonomy, 
rendered  all  sane  discussion  of  general  and  lasting 
peace  hollow  and  empty  throughout  two  generations, 
as  far  as  the  masses  of  Europe  were  concerned.  St. 
Simon  and  Fourier  were  visionaries,  Marx  proved  a 
demon  of  errors.  The  whole  romantic  movement  in 
letters,  art,  and  thought  was  bellicose,  with  rare  ex- 
ceptions like  that  of  Victor  Hugo;  the  words  of 
Bourgoing  and  Anacharsis  Cloots  were  dismissed  as 
ravings.  But  under  the  segis  of  the  Hohenzollern 
dynasty  there  began  in  practice  and  in  the  academic 
chair  a  subtle  and  sly  subversion  of  Kant's  peace  gos- 
pel, a  betrayal  of  the  master  which  lasted  until  the 
torrents  of  German  violence  burst  upon  the  world,  in 
1914.  The  ruse  by  which  Prussia  evaded  the  limita- 
tion of  her  standing  army  and  introduced  universal 
military  service  is  well  known;  and  in  practice  she 
continued  from  the  moment  of  her  deepest  humiliation 
the  policy  of  military  preparedness  inherited  from  her 
long  line  of  fighting  princes.  This  was  no  betrayal, 
merely  a  reversion  to  type.  It  was  an  otherwise  ad- 
mirable man,  a  keen  dialectician,  who  distorted  Kant's 
clear  peace  policy  just  enough  to  lower  the  path  from 
the  causeway  into  the  bogs.  This  was  Fichte,  a  man 
of  seductive  charm  in  word  and  deed.  His  was  the 
influence  back  of  the  sorry  professional  manifesto,  in 
1914,  and  it  was  the  signers  of  it  who  had  long  planned 
to  erect  at  Berlin  a  Fichte  House  for  graduate  students, 
as  a  memorial  to  his  leadership. 

Foreshadowing  a  league  of  peoples  as  the  outcome 
of  public  law,  Fichte  taught,  however,  that  the  state, 
based  on  contract  between  citizens,  exists  for  their 


352    SUGGESTIONS  FOR  ENDURING  PEACE 


well-being  and  the  protection  of  their  property,  a 
purely  subjective  purpose  for  which  recourse  to  war 
is  necessary  and  right,  and  the  decision  of  war,  being 
final,  is  also  right.  His  proviso  that  the  other  state 
can  be  attacked  only  when  it  refuses  a  guaranty  of 
security  to  the  menaced  nation,  is  so  feebly  stated 
as  to  have  had  no  influence  in  his  system  or  on  his 
many,  many  followers.  For  his  philosophy  the  uni- 
verse is  one  long  conflict  of  the  ego  with  the  non-ego, 
a  struggle  without  ethical  guidance  between  sense  and 
conduct.  From  such  a  basic  concept  springs  no  peace 
and  no  pardon;  his  international  tribunal  has  no  con- 
cern with  justice,  but  only  with  precedent  and  prac- 
tice. Claiming  to  be  a  lover  of  peace  he  yet  inter- 
prets history  solely  in  terms  of  natural  law  as  opposed 
to  moral  law  and  that,  despite  all  vain  extenuation,  is 
war.  Schelling  exactly  reversed  the  logical  order  of 
Kant;  at  a  certain  stage  of  progress  there  would 
arise  a  federation  of  states  to  regulate  by  persuasion 
or  force  all  their  relations,  and  from  these  regulations 
each  member  would  be  trained  to  a  sweet  reasonable- 
ness in  time.  He  was  as  illogical  as  Rousseau. 
Finally,  it  remained  for  Hegel,  in  whose  philosophy 
being  and  thinking  are  identical ;  and  so  exclude  the 
nature  of  duty,  utterly;  to  read  the  temper  of  Prussia 
and  its  rulers  with  clear  comprehension  and  fearlessly 
to  express  it.  Like  Hobbes  he  announces  the  wolf- 
theory,  "homo  homini  lupus,"  as  finality.  War  is 
legitimate,  necessary  and  desirable,  the  indispensable 
condition  of  "Kultur."  Legality  is  the  essence  of 
politics.  To  this  the  burgher  must  be  compelled. 
So  also  must  other  states,  the  relations  between  which 
are  fixed  by  treaties  which  should  be  observed,  but 
cannot  be  enforced  except  by  war.  There  is  no 
"must"  in  international  law,  for  there  is  no  praetor. 
Lasting  peace  is  degeneracy,  men  and  states  alike 
reach  their  true  station  only  in  war.    Whatever  is, 


SUGGESTIONS  FOR  ENDURING  PEACE  353 


is  reasonable,  what  is  reasonable  exists.  War  is 
neither  unreasonable  nor  evil.  There  is,  of  course,  a 
pure  philosophical  side  to  his  speculations,  but  his 
so-called  philosophy  of  history  sees  the  Prussian 
monarchy  as  the  one  aim  of  the  divine  purpose  from 
all  eternity.  In  his  betrayal  of  Kant's  positions,  his 
place  is  that  of  the  arch-fiend  in  the  perversion  of 
German  thought  throughout  the  nineteenth  century; 
in  the  consequent  bursting  of  the  dykes  and  the  flood- 
ing our  western  world  with  blood. 

Like  every  intellectual  leader,  Kant  was  both  in- 
tensely local  and  broadly  patriotic  in  temper.  He 
never  left  his  native  city  because  thence  he  had  an 
unclouded  view  alike  of  Prussia,  Germany,  and  the 
Western  World.  Fichte,  Schelling,  and  Hegel  lived 
in  the  turmoil  of  national  life,  and  being  sensitive  to 
its  currents,  reflected  national  passion  in  the  systems 
which  undermined  Kant's  influence,  and  prussianized 
all  Germany.  The  succeeding  periods  of  German 
history  were  those  of  liberation  from  the  French  yoke, 
the  reconstruction  of  the  Prussian  monarchy,  the 
federation  of  North  Germany,  the  wars  for  hegemony 
on  the  continent,  and  the  empire.  During  the  cen- 
tury between  the  Congress  of  Vienna  and  the  Con- 
gress which  has  been  sitting  at  Paris,  there  was  but  a 
single  cult  in  Prussia,  that  of  the  hero  warrior,  and  by 
1 914  it  had  become  universal  throughout  German- 
speaking  lands.  This  cult  has  had  a  succession  of 
apostles,  or  rather  of  apologists,  not  one  of  whom  has 
had  a  philosophic  mind,  though  posing  and  strutting 
in  the  mask  of  historians  and  philosophers:  they 
merely  marked  time  with  the  dynastic  politics  of  suc- 
ceeding periods. 

The  so-called  Holy  Alliance  was  a  pietistic  disguise 
for  a  league  against  France  and  all  liberalism  of  a 
revolutionary  type  throughout  Europe.  Its  succes- 
sive congresses  lost  in  efficiency  and  prestige  in  exact 


354    SUGGESTIONS  FOR  ENDURING  PEACE 


proportion  to  the  growing  bitterness  between  Austria 
and  Prussia  until  the  league,  distorted  out  of  all  shape 
and  meaning,  became  a  farce :  and  its  author,  the  Czar 
Alexander  I,  a  well-meaning  idealist,  died  of  a  broken 
heart.  The  Revolution  of  1789  and  the  dissemination 
of  its  teachings  by  the  Napoleonic  wars  far  and  near 
over  Europe  afifected  all  Germany  profoundly,  especi- 
ally the  Rhine  lands.  From  the  German  princes 
was  demanded  constitutional  free  government.  They 
spent  the  whole  dismal  period  down  to  1848  evading 
engagements  ^'Tung  from  them  by  their  subjects. 
The  effect  of  this  was  to  create  among  the  people  a 
passion  for  German  unity.  The  French  revolution 
of  1848  gave  the  German  people,  the  burghers,  a 
golden  opportunity  but  they  frittered  it  away  in  con- 
ventions and  debates  of  interminable  verbosity,  until 
it  grew  manifest  that  individually  and  collectively 
Germans  possessed  not  one  scintilla  of  political  ca- 
pacity. When  German  unity  did  come  it  was  a  unity 
forced  by  Bismarck  upon  unwilling  princes.  The 
Hohenzollerns  were  not  slow  to  seize  the  opportunity. 
Convincing  themselves  that  the  European  lands  on 
which  Germans  lived  were  menaced  by  implacable  foes 
on  every  hand  they  proclaimed  themselves  the  pro- 
tector of  Germany  and  sought  to  prove  it,  partly  and 
mainly,  by  their  astounding  military  system  on  land 
and  sea,  partly  by  such  a  shrewd  development  in 
agriculture  and  manufactures  of  economic  resources, 
commercial  and  mercantile,  as  made  every  German 
comparatively  opulent.  Disclaiming  utterly  the 
policy  of  imperial  expansion  with  their  lips  they  began 
an  economic  penetration  of  every  portion  of  the  globe, 
linking  it  closely  with  a  subtle  political  propaganda  in 
the  countries  of  Europe,  America,  Africa,  and  Asia, 
which  amounted  to  conspiracy  against  the  free  govern- 
ments of  the  whole  world. 

It  is  an  exceedingly  nice  question  as  to  whether 


SUGGESTIONS  FOR  ENDURING  PEACE  355 


in  the  periods  of  historical  acceleration  thought 
follows  fact  or  whether  opportunism  reigns  supreme  in 
moulding  thought  and  formulating  precept.  In  the 
latest  period  of  German  history  the  choice  between  the 
two  is  unimportant  and  we  are  too  near  the  times  for 
a  decision,  in  any  case.  It  must  suffice  to  state 
briefly  the  wide  divergence  of  the  German  prophets 
from  the  sound  positions  of  their  giant  forerunner. 
How  ponderous  and  cumbrous  the  monster  system  of 
Hegel  was  is  shown  by  the  fact  that  after  his  death  in 
1 83 1  his  followers  split  into  three  schools,  a  right  wing 
maintaining  his  war  doctrines  on  a  conservative 
basis,  but  without  energy  or  zeal:  a  centre,  devoted 
to  securing  some  balance  between  the  extremes  of  his 
teaching:  and  a  left  wing,  frankly  radical,  almost 
revolutionary,  and  very  enthusiastic  in  the  applica- 
tion of  his  war  doctrine  to  politics.  The  younger 
Fichte  sought  to  counteract  the  Hegelian  current,  but 
his  political  philosophy  tended  to  reverse  every  prac- 
tical precept  of  Kant.  Dwelling  insistently  on  God 
as  love  he  saw  a  harmony  between  religion  and  the 
science  of  his  day  which  harder  heads  could  not  find 
and  in  the  debates  he  discovered  himself  as  a  spine- 
less pantheist.  His  influence  was  insignificant.  The 
single  eminent  philosopher  of  the  epoch  proved  to  be 
Schopenhauer,  whose  one  important  contribution  long 
antedates  the  times  in  which  attention  was  drawn 
to  it.  Claiming  to  be  a  pure  Kantian,  his  speculation 
is  unimportant,  but  his  style  and  graphic  power  are 
unsurpassed.  For  him  history  is  but  a  record  of  hu- 
man misery.  Earnest  and  morally  sincere,  he  scathes 
in  scornful  pessimism  all  the  dark  aspects  of  life,  single 
and  collective,  and  leaves  his  sympathetic  readers  in 
blank  despair.  Hartman  is  in  some  sense  inspired  by 
Schopenhauer,  but  believed  himself  to  have  reconciled 
his  master  with  Schelling,  Hegel,  and  even  Leibnitz. 
From  Goethe  onward  all  German  writing  was  satu- 


356    SUGGESTIONS  FOR  ENDURING  PEACE 


rated  with  Weltschmerz  and  these  two  masters  of  dis- 
couragement, the  latter  addicted  to  Darwinism  as  a 
possible  explanation  of  the  universe,  confirmed  their 
peoples  in  the  desperate  conviction  that  since  an 
Unconscious  Will  had  laid  on  human  shoulders  a  cross 
too  heavy  to  be  borne,  the  struggle  for  anything  de- 
sirable must  be  unbroken  and  ruthless.  German 
science  and  German  imaginative  literature,  that  of 
their  one  greatest  poet  in  particular,  Heine,  are  red- 
olent of  the  deadly  Upas  odors. 

Leaving  aside  the  question  of  religious  faith  and 
confession,  the  consequences  of  that  betrayal  of  Kant 
which  began  with  Fichte  and  ends  with  Nietzsche,  lie 
on  the  surface,  revealed  to  a  world  which  long  weltered 
in  anarchy,  carnage,  and  a  pseudo-autocracy  which 
posed  as  the  regenerator  of  society.  While  the  order 
it  sought  to  subvert  was  recognized  by  Kant  as  imper- 
fect and  requiring  renovation,  and  while  for  a  century 
that  order  has  been  perverted  into  something  very  like 
decadence,  yet  it  was  an  order  and  not  a  chaos,  the 
only  order  of  which  enlightenment  had  some  control. 
It  was  not  the  witches'  sabbath  of  social  demons,  the 
devil's  spawn:  and  it  had  in  it,  as  Kant  clearly  saw, 
the  elements  of  a  further  development  to  secure  and 
conserve  all  that  answers  in  the  affirmative  the  im- 
portunate question :  Is  life  worth  living  ? 


Ill 


AMERICA  AND  THE  PEACE:     OUR  CONCEPTS 

WAR  THE  ACTUALITY  OF  HISTORY.     PEACE  THE  EXCEPTION  AND  IDE.\L  

STABLE  PEACE  OBSTRUCTED  BY  THE  STRATIFICATION  OF  MEN  IN  CIVIL- 
IZATION— LASTING  PEACE  POSSIBLE  ONLY  IN  THE  CONSIDERATE  TREAT- 
MENT OF  THE  PARTIES,  WHATEVER  THEIR  CULTURE — -DIFFERENCES  OF 
SANCTION  BEHIND  MUNICIPAL  AND  INTERNATION.\L  LAW:  MORAL 
FORCE  STRONGER  THAN  PHYSICAL  FORCE— PRECEPTS  OF  WISDOM  BE- 
HIND ALL  LEGISLATION;  TO  BE  EXPANDED  IN  INTERNATIONAL  RELA- 
TIONS— OUR  PARTICIPATION  IN  ACTUAL  WAR  BECAUSE  THESE  WERE 
OUTRAGED  THE  PUBLIC  LAW  OF  EUROPE  TRANSFORMED  BY  THE  AP- 
PEARANCE OF  AMERICA  AS  A  WORLD-POWER— THE  OLD  INTERNA- 
TIONAL LAW  IN  SEVEN   STAGES — WHEATON'S  DEFINITION  THE  MOST 

VALID  SOVEREIGNTY,    INDEPENDENCE,    EQUALITY:     A    GRAMMAR  OF 

POLITICS,  WHOSE  RULES  ARE  PROVED  BY  EXCEPTIONS  THE  XIX  CEN- 
TURY CONCEPT  OF  PEACE.  KANT's  UTOPIA — SOME  ELEMENTS  OF  THE 
UTOPIA  REALIZED.  SOCIAL  JUSTICE — EXPANSION  OF  THE  CONCEPT 
HOSTILE  TO  IMPERIALISM,  TO  SECRET  DIPLOMACY  AND  TO  A  DOUBLE 
STATE  SYSTEM  OF  ALLIANCES — WAR  OF  THE  PRESENT  TIME  TO  SECURE 
HEREAFTER  CONSENT  OF  THE  GOVERNED  IN  BOTH  EXTERN.\L  AND  IN- 
TERNAL MATTERS.  THE  POWER  EMPHASIZED  INTO  A  NOVELTY — IS 
PEACE  POSSIBLE  ON  THE  BASIS  OF  LEVELLING? — HOMOGENEITY  IN 
POLITICS  DANGEROUS  EVEN  IF  POSSIBLE.  ALL  LIFE  THE  INTERPLAY 
BETWEEN  DIVERGENCIES— THE  CONDITION  OF  STABILITY  IN  PEACE 
THAT  EACH  PEOPLE  SHOULD  HAVE  COMFORTABLE  INSTITUTIONS — ONE 
TYPE  OF  INTERVENTION  DISCREDITED,  ANOTHER  ON  TRIAL. 

To  a  generation  which  has  seen  forty  years  of  peace 
in  Europe  it  seems  impossible  to  realize  that  war  and 
not  peace  is  the  habitual  state  of  mankind.  During 
seven  hundred  years  before  Augustus  the  temple  or 
arch  of  Janus  was  closed  but  twice,  he  closed  it  a  third 
time;  and  during  the  so-called  imperial  Pax  Romana 
of  two  centuries  there  were  fewer  than  forty  years 
when  there  was  peace  even  within  the  empire.  There- 
after there  has  not  been  a  moment  when  some  empire 
or  other,  the  Holy  Roman,  the  Spanish,  the  British, 
the  French,  the  Russian,  the  American,  or  the  Ger- 
man was  not  at  war  somewhere  in  some  degree. 
From  the  earliest  dawn  of  history,  through  the  oriental 
and  the  occidental  ages,  there  have  been  at  least  five 

357 


358 


AMERICA  AND  THE  PEACE: 


ideals  of  empire,  the  theocratic,  the  cultural,  the  mili- 
tary, the  ecclesiastical,  the  political,  and  the  emanci- 
pational.  In  each  were  the  elements  of  the  others, 
but  in  turn  each  ideal  has  asserted  predominance. 
The  struggle  of  to-day  began  as  a  contest  for  markets, 
masked  by  ideals  of  democracy,  a  mask  which  in  the 
moral  order  of  history  has  become  a  real  face. 

It  seems  Utopian  to  talk,  therefore,  of  permanent 
peace.  Yet  nevertheless  we  may  hope  for  a  stable 
peace,  a  peace  to  last  longer  considerably  than  the 
latest  one  of  forty  years;  perhaps  indefinitely  longer. 
The  civilization  we  have  had  was  undoubtedly 
moulded  in  all  its  larger  outlines  by  war;  the  civiliza- 
tion we  want  must  be  moulded  by  the  arts  of  peace. 
So  we  hope  and  so  we  trust  and  so  we  confidently 
declare.  We  assert  that  the  interchange  of  relations 
in  rivalry  must  give  way  to  the  interchange  of  rela- 
tions in  cooperation  among  nations  as  among  individ- 
uals. We  are  not  hoping  for  homogeneity  and  conse- 
quent stagnation,  for  the  levelling  down  as  well  as 
up  which  would  create  a  social  swamp.  There  will 
be  and  must  be  various  forms  of  refinement,  culture, 
and  goodness;  while  there  are  everlasting,  immutable, 
absolute  standards  of  justice  and  truth,  it  still  remains 
a  fact  that  they  are  difficult  of  application  and  will  be, 
until  we  reach  an  approximate  perfection  of  human 
nature  everywhere.  The  absurd  Utopia  of  one  place 
and  one  generation  may  be  a  hopeful,  useful,  ideal  in 
another  at  the  very  same  moment.  In  the  present 
there  is  always  the  past;  to  another  form  of  this  tru- 
ism we  must  refer  later.  At  this  hour  there  are  men 
alive  and  active  who  live  in  every  single  stage  of  cul- 
ture from,  and  including,  the  old  stone  age  to  the  high- 
est practice  of  the  present  day  in  European  lands. 
Great  Britain  has  kept  the  peace  in  her  retarded 
possessions  by  adapting  perfect  principles  to  imperfect 
practice.    When  Lord  Lawrence  received  a  high  judi- 


OUR  CONCEPTS 


359 


cial  appointment  under  the  Indian  government  to  ad- 
minister the  laws  of  primitive  hill  tribes,  of  the  Brah- 
min code  and  Manu;  and  of  Islam  as  well  as  Christen- 
dom, he  drew  back  dismayed,  but  Jessels,  master  of 
the  rolls,  said:  "Go,  hear  attentively,  consider  and 
give  your  verdict,  but  never,  never  append  your  rea- 
sons." It  was  a  counsel  of  perfection  and  led  to  high 
achievement. 

If  we  are  to  have  a  lasting  world  peace  it  will  have 
some  such  principle  as  that  for  a  corner-stone.  Hiss- 
ing and  hurtling  through  space  have  been  bombs  and 
shrapnel  of  hate  and  spite  talk,  of  charge  and  counter- 
charge which  nullify  every  principle  of  Christianity 
and  humanity.  For  the  most  part  they  have  brought 
moral  devastation  and  intensified  spite,  making  the 
task  of  the  peacemaker  immensely  difficult.  But  they 
have  also  brought  the  blush  of  shame  to  nobler  minds 
and  created  a  repentant  band  of  guardsmen  whose 
banner  bears  the  fine  old  Anglo-Saxon  device  of  fair 
play,  men  who  will  stand  in  serried  ranks  to  uphold  the 
right.  Peace  came  with  so  overwhelming  a  victory 
that  the  conquerors  have  to  create  and  maintain  new 
states  on  which  to  impose  their  dictated,  unnegotiated 
terms  of  relationship,  a  dangerous  situation. 

There  is  very  little  originality  and  no  monopoly  in 
thought.  The  thought  is  the  property  of  him  who 
expresses  it  best,  that  is  in  the  form  with  the  widest 
appeal.  Municipal  law  is  very  largely  the  creation  of 
the  text  writers,  that  is,  of  the  men  historically  and 
philosophically  trained  who  know  just  how  far  moral 
right  can  be  transmuted  into  legal  right,  how  far  prin- 
ciple can  outrun  practice,  without  creating  contempt 
for  law  through  a  total  inability  of  the  community  to 
put  the  sanction  of  force  behind  legal  precept.  Some- 
thing of  this  sort,  too,  must  be  done  regarding  inter- 
national law.  The  masses  of  humanity  are  having  it 
dinned  into  their  ears  that  they  must  learn  to  think 


36o        AMERICA  AND  THE  PEACE: 


internationally.  I  fear  this  injunction  is  more  sapient 
than  wise.  Throughout  the  long  ages  the  state  and 
its  relation  to  other  states,  "the  mystery  in  the  soul  of 
state"  are  Shakespeare's  words,  has  been  the  riddle  of 
riddles,  deeper  than  that  of  the  goddess  Neith.  Our 
only  hope  lies  in  the  few  who  are  not  sapient  but  saga- 
cious, a  trusted  few  who  can  look  beneath  the  surface, 
examine  the  foundations  of  international  law,  and  dis- 
tinguish between  moral  precepts  which  can  be  turned 
into  law  with  a  universal  moral  sanction,  and  those 
which  outrun  the  general  custom,  which  are  still  ideals 
and  cannot  be  made  operative  by  force  or  suasion. 
The  thoughts  of  the  wise  clearly  expressed  will  in  time 
become  axiomatic. 

Without  clarity  there  is  no  truth.  We  say  of  a 
proposition  that  it  is  manifest,  or  clear,  or  plain,  or 
"of  course,"  or  common-sense— and  that  is  enough, 
we  ask  no  proof  and  obedience  is  imperative.  There 
is  a  body  of  such  propositions  behind  every  state  of 
society  which  secures  the  momentary  equilibrium  of  its 
worship  and  faith,  its  traditions,  customs,  and  laws, 
of  its  institutions  and  habitual  behavior.  These  all 
have  been  in  large  measure  collated  by  students  and 
in  some  measure  codified.  Since  the  beginning  of  our 
epoch  there  has  been  such  running  to  and  fro  over  the 
whole  earth  that  the  process  can  now  be  completed. 
We  have  so  profoundly  studied  the  law  of  nature  and 
purged  it  that  we  can  now  study  the  law  of  nations  in 
peace  and  war  with  equal  thoroughness,  and  on  a 
sound  basis  of  historical  knowledge.  We  know  what 
societies  have  done  in  both  relations;  we  can  form  a 
working  hypothesis  as  to  what  they  are  willing  and 
able  to  do  in  the  immediate  and  remote  future;  we 
may  formulate  ideals  and  relegate  Utopias  to  the  king- 
dom which  is  not  of  this  world.  Above  all  else  we  may 
note  the  change,  whether  forward  or  backward,  in 
applying  the  universal  moral  system  of  societies. 


OUR  CONCEPTS 


361 


This  is  really  our  chief  concern;  to  establish  firm 
foundations  for  international  justice.  Democracy 
is  essentially  pacifist ;  in  time  of  war  it  makes  a  light- 
ning change  into  a  tyranny.  Without  international 
justice  and  courts  to  pronounce  the  judgment  there 
can  be  no  stability.  The  day  has  arrived  when  no 
single  state  can  be  a  law  unto  itself.  This  is  the  one 
outstanding  reason  why  the  United  States  entered  the 
recent  war. 

But  there  is  another  of  almost  equal  urgency;  we 
heard  the  call  of  humanity  and  of  civilization  as  we 
understood  it,  and  responded.  In  the  age  that  is 
passing,  governments  intervened,  by  war  if  necessary, 
to  protect  the  rights  of  subjects  and  citizens,  and  to 
redress  their  wrongs.  It  was  with  a  sense  of  outrage 
in  the  hearts  of  most  Americans  that  they  saw  our 
fellow  citizens,  natural-born  or  naturalized,  deprived 
of  their  simplest  privileges  in  Russia  without  more 
than  a  formal  protest  by  our  rulers  or  the  denouncing 
of  a  commercial  treaty;  and  it  was  in  blind  but  in- 
effectual fury  that  we  looked  on  as  American  property 
was  destroyed  and  American  lives  sacrificed  in  Mexico, 
while  the  administration  reversed  our  historical  policy 
in  order  to  overthrow  a  de  facto  government  and  set 
up  a  so-called  de  jure  constitutional  revolutionist  and 
dictator.  The  dimensions  of  wrong  mean  everything 
to  a  democracy  and  it  was  only  when  we  saw  the 
whole  fabric  of  free  government  throughout  the  world 
endangered  and  toppling  that  we  were  finally  roused 
to  majestic  action. 

What  every  American  must  understand  is  that  the 
existing  peace  if  destined  to  endure  a  reasonable  time, 
had  of  necessity  to  be  totally  different  from  any 
hitherto  made.  Since  the  close  of  the  terrible  wars 
incident  to  the  readjustment  of  the  European  state 
system  after  the  Reformation,  it  has  been  dimly  dis- 
cerned that  there  was  then  and  has  since  existed  an 


362        AMERICA  AND  THE  PEACE: 


inchoate  United  States  of  Europe.  The  germ  of  the 
idea  is  in  the  Treaty  of  WestphaHa,  1648.  The  next 
advance,  after  the  expansion  of  Europe  into  non- 
European  lands,  was  an  unwilHng  recognition  that 
there  was  an  inchoate  United  States  of  the  World. 
The  germ  of  that  idea  is  in  the  Treaty  of  Utrecht,  1713. 
The  next  step  was  the  Treaty  of  Vienna,  1815,  em- 
phasizing a  general  state  system.  The  first  step  after 
the  inauguration  of  the  commercial  and  industrial  age 
was  to  recognize  the  trade  routes  of  the  world  as  free 
highways;  the  germ  of  that  idea  was  in  the  Treaty  of 
Berlin,  1878,  the  clauses  at  least  dealing  with  South- 
eastern Europe  and  the  nearer  Orient.  Since  then  two 
oriental  powers,  Japan  and  the  Czardom,  entered  on 
the  arena  in  a  conflict  for  supremacy  in  the  Far  East, 
while  the  United  States,  becoming  a  world  power,  al- 
most by  accident,  finds  its  expansive  interests  in  direct 
conflict  with  theirs  and  in  general  rivalry  with  all 
exporting  nations  for  control  in  the  Pacific  Ocean. 
This  fact  in  itself  and  its  incorporation  in  the  world 
disaster  of  191 9  would  be  sufficient  to  show  how  far 
advanced  beyond  all  other  world  charters,  West- 
phalia, Utrecht,  Vienna,  or  Berlin,  this  new  peace  had 
to  be,  if  it  were  to  have  any  lasting  qualities.  Taken 
in  conjunction  with  the  facts  of  contemporary  history 
and  the  newer  doctrines  enumerated  as  rising  above 
the  old  horizons,  it  becomes  clear  that  the  declaration 
of  new  principles  and  the  formulation  of  new  rules  was 
necessarily  the  affair  not  of  a  European,  but  of  a 
world,  conference.  While,  of  course,  the  victorious 
belligerents  necessarily  dominated  in  proportion  to 
their  interests,  yet  all  peoples  had  a  degree  of  repre- 
sentation. In  order  to  give  the  world  agreements 
stability,  their  interpretation,  curtailment,  or  enlarge- 
ment, their  use  in  conciliation  and  in  adjudication 
for  that  purpose  must  be  entrusted  to  a  suitable  in- 
strumentality with  a  power  both  physical  and  moral. 


OUR  CONCEPTS 


363 


To  insure  their  enforcement  a  new  sanction  for  the 
new  international  law  had  to  be  considered;  some, 
fearing  the  tyranny  of  a  super-state  felt,  that  it  must 
be  purely  moral ;  some  were  sure  that  economic  sanc- 
tion would  suffice,  and  others  again  earnestly  con- 
sidered the  greatest  possible  novelty,  viz.,  the  even- 
tual creation  of  a  super-state  with  international  armies 
and  fleets,  to  police  the  world  and  enforce  international 
law. 

The  general  principles  underlying  the  conclusions  of 
statesmen  have  found  wide-spread  acceptance  among 
scholars,  but  the  extent  of  them  can  be  best  under- 
stood through  comparison  between  what  is  going  and 
what  is  coming.  There  have  been  seven  epochs  in 
the  development  of  international  law;  the  Roman 
dominion  dictated  the  relations  of  its  conquered 
states  to  each  other  and  to  the  ruling  state  with  due 
consideration  for  their  respective  institutions;  the 
church  and  the  Roman  law  dictated  the  relations  of 
the  nascent  nations  down  to  the  peace  of  Westphalia, 
in  1648;  that  charter  proclaimed  the  European  equili- 
brium, the  balance  of  power,  and  the  right  of  inter- 
vention to  maintain  it.  In  the  fourth  epoch,  after  the 
peace  of  Utrecht,  Europe  concerned  itself  with  the 
rights  of  neutrals  and  belligerents  in  matters  of  com- 
merce and  navigation,  while  Cromwell  and  the 
English  Commonwealth  gave  an  earthquake  shock  to 
the  divine  right  of  kings;  the  fifth  epoch,  1 763-1 789, 
saw  the  criminal  partition  of  Poland,  the  independence 
of  America,  and  the  doctrine  of  sound  neutrality, 
while  Bentham  put  forth  his  famous  project  for  per- 
petual peace;  the  sixth  epoch  (1789-18 15)  the  age  of 
revolutions,  saw  monarchy  on  the  defensive ;  and  the 
assertions  of  non-intervention,  of  de  facto  government 
as  sovereign  in  a  nation,  and  of  the  foundation  of 
national  jurisprudence  through  court  decisions;  the 
latest  epoch,  1815-1915,  saw  the  rise  and  fall  of  the 


364        AMERICA  AND  THE  PEACE: 


Holy  Alliance,  the  assertion  of  national  sovereignties, 
and  the  counter  right  of  rebellion  in  the  case  of  Bel- 
gium and  the  Italian  States,  the  extinction  of  small 
states  in  Italy  and  Germany,  and  the  final  emergence 
of  the  doctrine  that  states  (nations)  have  rights  and 
duties  regarding  each  other,  binding  obligations  of 
reciprocity  parallel  to,  though  not  identical  with,  those 
of  individuals. 

This  enumeration  of  evolution  epochs  suffices  to 
demonstrate  that  Wheaton's  definition  of  interna- 
tional law  is  on  the  whole  complete:  a  body  of  rules 
for  conduct  which  reason  deduces  as  consonant  to 
justice,  from  the  nature  of  the  society  existing  among 
independent  nations,  with  such  definitions  and  modi- 
fications as  may  be  established  by  general  consent. 
This  statement  foresees  advance,  exhibits  the  genesis 
of  law,  and  does  not  emphasize  its  nature.  To  avoid 
confusion  we  exclude  law  as  meaning  the  partial  uni- 
formity of  nature  within  the  limits  of  our  senses;  we 
also  exclude  private  or  municipal  law,  enforced  by  the 
totality  of  state  power;  we  confine  the  meaning  to 
rules  obtained  by  the  general  assent  of  states  or  na- 
tions, each  asserting  its  sovereignty  over  its  own  citi- 
zens, its  independence  of  other  states  or  nations, 
and  its  absolute  equality  as  a  moral  individual  with 
all  others,  regardless  of  territorial  size  or  numbers  of 
population,  with  no  consideration  of  age,  rank,  or 
dignity.  Equitably  and  legally  what  is  law  for  others 
is  law  for  it.  Such  in  theory  and  largely  in  practice 
have  been  the  organizations  that  have  agreed  or  dif- 
fered about  the  rules  governing  their  relations  in 
peace  or  war.  They,  and  they  alone,  are  the  arti- 
ficial persons  which  lay  claim  to  moral  attributes; 
which  appeal  to  the  moral  sense  of  civilized  humanity. 

In  the  passing  age  these  qualities  of  sovereignty,  in- 
dependence and  equality  were,  of  course,  non-existent 
as  ultimates,  except  in  theory.    They  were  neverthe- 


OUR  CONCEPTS 


365 


less  invaluable  theories,  for  upon  them  all  state  action 
was  based:  legislation,  administration,  and  justice. 
Yet  any  given  state  was  sovereign  only  so  far  as  it 
could  command  acquiescence  from  other  states  with 
obedience  from  its  own  citizens;  and  neither  was  ever 
approximately  complete.  There  always  were  and 
there  always  will  be  objectors  and  dissenters,  unwill- 
ing subjects  and  reformers.  The  independence  of 
every  state  was  complete  only  so  far  as  it  could  be 
maintained  by  the  moral  and  physical  force,  actual 
and  potential,  which  was  behind  its  assertion  of  inde- 
pendence. As  to  equality  among  states,  it  has  been 
both  a  beautiful  and  an  indispensable  fiction,  in  times 
of  peace  the  most  efficient  and  beneficent  of  them  all. 
Yet  every  one  of  the  three  has  been  only  a  part  of 
speech  in  the  grammar  of  politics;  a  term  of  grammar 
is  proved  by  its  exceptions.  Or  else  they  are  ideals, 
always  to  be  pursued,  but  like  the  hare  and  the  tortoise 
of  Greek  casuistry,  never  to  be  overtaken. 

As  an  exhibit  of  disproportion  in  values  let  us  take 
a  nineteenth  century  conception  of  peace;  the  best 
which  can  be  found.  It  is  based  on  the  so-called 
axiom  "that  each  state  is  inviolable  and  free,  and  that 
no  state  has  a  right  forcibly  to  meddle  with  the  con- 
stitution or  government  of  another  state.  A  state  is 
a  society  of  men  which  alone  can  rule  and  dispose  of 
itself;  to  meddle  with  its  affairs,  whatever  they  be,  is  to 
render  uncertain  the  autonomy  of  all  states;  and  tends 
to  scatter  the  seeds  of  war  which  sooner  or  later  will 
germinate  and  bear  the  most  bitter  fruit."  "A  gen- 
eral resistance  of  all  states  against  any  intermeddling 
in  the  affairs  of  others  would  be  one  of  the  greatest 
guarantees  of  peace  in  the  world."  "In  this  way  a 
federation  of  free  states  would  be  formed  and  pro- 
claim as  an  inviolable,  unalterable  rule  of  international 
law  the  principle  of  non-intervention."  This  defini- 
tion is  founded  on  what  was  called  reciprocal  inde- 


366        AMERICA  AND  THE  PEACE: 


pendence,  a  term  which  we  must  see  is  really  a  mask 
for  interdependence,  a  very  low  degree  of  independ- 
ence indeed.  In  order  to  realize  this  high  ideal,  stand- 
ing armies  of  regular  troops  must  be  abolished.  In 
the  words  of  Kant,  "being  always  ready  to  act  they 
incessantly  menace  other  states  and  incite  them  to 
increase  the  number  of  armed  men  ad  infinitum^ 
"Such  rivalry,"  he  continued,  "an  inexhaustible  source 
of  expense,  which  makes  peace  more  onerous  than  a 
short  war,  sometimes  even  leads  a  state  into  open 
hostilities  with  the  sole  view  of  getting  rid  of  so 
painful  a  burden."  Secondly,  abolish  an  even  greater 
menace  to  other  states:  all  loans  at  home  or  abroad 
for  the  purpose  of  feeding  war;  permit  only  those  es- 
sential to  the  economic  needs  of  a  state  of  peace. 
The  great  sums  of  money  easily  obtained  on  credit 
for  prosecuting  war  are  the  most  frightful  of  all  taxes, 
a  blood  tax,  used  to  destroy  life  and  render  impossible 
all  peaceful  pursuits.  Thirdly,  use  the  referendum 
and  ask  the  nation  itself  whether  it  wants  war,  wants 
commerce  and  industry  lamed,  wants  its  sons  slain 
and  mutilated,  wants  its  taxes  indefinitely  increased, 
wants  its  aged  and  infirm  to  pay  a  second  penalty 
in  privation  of  comfort  and  food  needful  to  prolong 
life  ?  Is  it  the  government  or  the  people  which  wants 
war?  There  would  be  instances  as  in  our  Spanish 
war  and  this  one,  where  a  free  people  would  answer 
yes;  but  in  this  latest  barbarity  it  is  most  unlikely  that 
except  those  of  Germany,  the  populations  of  the  West 
European  Powers  would  have  replied  in  the  affirma- 
tive. Some  wars  have  been  just,  useful,  and  neces- 
sary, and  there  will  inevitably  be  such  wars  in  the 
future.  Passion  never  submits  to  arbitration  as  the 
last  resort.  From  the  Amphyctionic  Council  of 
Greece  to  the  Hague  Tribunal  this  has  been  under- 
stood and  the  justiciable  discords  between  nations 
which  can  be  settled  by  arbitration  are  few  exactly 


OUR  CONCEPTS 


367 


in  proportion  to  the  emphasis  laid  on  the  sovereignty, 
independence,  and  equality  of  states.  The  instrument 
of  peace  called  a  treaty  has  never  had  any  sanction 
except  reciprocal  benefit.  Since  England  violated  the 
Treaty  of  Amiens  down  to  the  latest  violation  of  the 
treaty  guaranteeing  Belgian  neutrality,  the  "reason  of 
state"  alone  has  controlled  the  observance  of  the  hon- 
orable obligation  implied  in  such  pacts.  Indeed,  the 
treaty  of  Berlin  was  made  to  justify  bygone  aggres- 
sions and  invite  new  ones. 

So  brief  a  summary  is  of  course  imperfect,  but  it  is 
compiled  from  high  authorities  and  fairly  represents 
the  dispassionate  judgment  of  judicial  minds  who  were 
neither  pacifistic  nor  militaristic,  but  simply  historical. 
The  peace  contemplated  and  recommended  was  vi- 
sionary then,  but  to-day  the  world  has  a  totally  new 
and  far  more  comprehensive  vision  of  peace.  That 
vision  was  based  on  a  knowledge  of  mankind  as  it  is, 
this  one  on  the  perfectibility  of  human  nature.  The 
former  recognized  the  predatory  instinct  which  seduces 
strength  into  rapacity,  the  latter  fondles  the  concept 
of  the  benevolent  incapacity  of  the  billions  to  molest 
the  individual  and  the  glad  unselfishness  of  the  cun- 
ning few  in  quenching  every  temptation  to  best  their 
unendowed  mates.  With  all  the  socialistic,  com- 
munistic and  anarchistic  dogmas  which  emanate  from 
this  state  of  mind  we  are  not  here  concerned.  But  we 
are  profoundly  concerned  with  the  conduct  and  de- 
mands of  those  who  hold  them.  That  they  have  ac- 
complished what  once  seemed  the  impossible  within  a 
single  generation  is  no  less  startling  because  it  is  true. 
"Social  justice"  is  a  phrase  which  to  our  grandfathers 
would  have  meant  little.  To-day  it  means  to  the  tax- 
payer a  requisition  of  about  half  his  gross  income  to 
equalize,  for  all,  the  conditions  of  living  in  education, 
food  and  housing;  in  insurance  against  sickness  and 
disability;  in  pleasure  grounds  and  museums;  in  safe- 


368        AMERICA  AND  THE  PEACE: 


guarding  the  shiftless  against  themselves,  in  exacting 
the  least  labor  for  the  largest  pay.  The  levelling  down 
of  the  well-to-do  and  the  levelling  up  of  the  unequipped 
multitude  proceeds  apace,  while  the  very  rich  have 
been  notified  of  coming  confiscations  in  order  that  the 
pauper  poor  and  the  criminals  may  live  softly  under 
the  aegis  of  reform,  in  what  are,  whether  jails  or  alms- 
houses, or  tenement  dwellings,  really  hospitals  for 
the  feeble-minded,  and  reformatories  for  the  depraved. 
We  have  so  civilized  our  world  as  to  minimize  both 
personal  and  family  responsibility  and  to  reverse  the 
order  of  nature  that  as  a  man  soweth  so  also  shall  he 
reap.  Shame  has  been  relegated  to  the  rummage 
chamber  of  discarded  antiquities;  emotionalism  knows 
no  shame. 

Not  having  disavowed  the  bases  of  supply  for  this 
successful  campaign  in  the  former  ideals  of  peace, 
which  themselves  far  outrun  actualities,  the  emotional 
reformers  have  devised  later  ideals  almost  contra- 
dictory of  the  passing  ones,  and  likewise  outrunning 
possibilities  quite  as  far  as  they  did.  Let  us  beware 
lest  we  fail  to  discern  the  face  behind  the  mask.  An- 
tecedent to  19 1 7,  there  were  certain  outstanding  facts 
of  policy  entertained  by  each  of  the  European  powers. 
Germany  avowed  its  European  territory  sufficiently 
large  except  for  certain  "rectifications  of  boundary" 
to  include  all  Germanic  peoples,  but  demanded  free 
trade  by  land  and  sea,  and  German  colonies  for  Ger- 
man settlers  outside  of  Europe.  Italy  proposed  to 
redeem  all  lands  where  Italians  dwelt,  to  have  its 
share  of  Roman  Africa,  of  the  isles  of  the  ^gean,  and 
to  make  the  Adriatic  an  Italian  lake  by  seizing  Albania 
in  the  partition  of  European  Turkey.  Russia  had  al- 
ready seized  half  of  Persia,  most  of  Armenia,  and  de- 
manded the  Straits  with  Constantinople.  Great  Bri- 
tain had  for  a  brief  moment  fondly  believed  her  water 
highway  to  India  secure  when  she  occupied  Egypt, 


OUR  CONCEPTS 


369 


but  found  to  her  dismay  that  Central  Europe  was 
"protecting"  Southeastern  Europe  and  Asia  Minor  in 
such  a  way  as  to  jeopardize  her  control ;  she  had  taken 
the  other  half  of  Persia,  reversed  her  anti-Russian 
policy  and  now  set  her  back  to  the  wall.  Since  1874 
France  has  agglomerated  the  second  greatest  colonial 
empire  of  the  world  and  has  yearned  to  reclaim  Alsace- 
Lorraine.  We  have  seen  Cuba  and  the  Philippines 
forced  upon  us ;  decency  and  order  in  Central  America, 
and  certain  West  Indian  isles  are  dependent  on  our 
marines,  and  we  have  come  to  a  consciousness  that  we 
are  no  longer  an  American,  but  a  world,  power,  under 
compulsion  to  protect  ourselves  on  the  western  con- 
tinent against  the  expansionist,  imperialistic  govern- 
ments of  Europe.  This  was  all  before  the  war,  when 
peace  and  pacifism  of  the  nineteenth-century  type 
prevailed  and  a  nice  equilibrium  was  maintained  by 
the  sleight-of-hand  known  as  secret  diplomacy,  when 
governments  were  partners  with  trusts  in  exploiting 
undeveloped  portions  of  the  globe. 

But  as  the  war  progressed  it  proved  a  more  desperate 
struggle  than  had  been  deemed  possible  and  elements 
of  brutal  ruthlessness  which  might  have  been  foreseen, 
but  were  not,  began  to  distress  not  only  the  belliger- 
ents, but  substantially  the  entire  civilized  world. 
It  proved  to  be  not  merely  a  struggle  for  power  in  the 
less  civilized  parts  of  the  earth,  but  the  grim  array  of 
two  types  of  civilization,  our  own  and  that  of  Germany, 
for  their  very  existence.  Into  this  titanic  struggle  we 
threw  ourselves  whole-heartedly  for  the  maintenance 
of  self-respect  in  part,  but  largely  from  a  sense  of  the 
most  imperative  duty  to  preserve  the  institutions  and 
traditions  not  merely  dear  to  us,  as  they  are,  but  es- 
sential to  the  only  life  we  are  able  to  live — for  self- 
preservation  as  well  as  for  self-respect.  Dimly  and 
vaguely  conscious  of  this  as  we  finally  were,  we  began 
as  other  great  powers  were  doing,  to  ask  ourselves  for 


370        AMERICA  AND  THE  PEACE: 


what  we  were  appealing  to  that  last  awful  tribunal  of 
bloodshed;  not  what  we  wanted  in  the  large,  which 
seemed  clear  enough,  but  what  we  must  fix  in  detail. 
Some  said  that  we  went  to  war  for  nationality,  some 
for  democracy,  and  many  for  the  liberation  of  en- 
slaved peoples  from  the  bondage  of  autocracy:  more 
clearly  stated,  for  nationality  everywhere  such  as  we 
possess  at  home,  for  democratic  government  every- 
where such  as  we  maintain  in  America,  for  liberty 
under  law  such  as  Americans  demand  and  enjoy. 
Those  who  have  read  history  talked  before  the  armi- 
stice and  continued  to  talk  about  restoring  Schleswig- 
Holstein  to  Denmark,  Alsace-Lorraine  to  France, 
Savoy  to  Italy,  Poland  and  Finland  to  independence, 
Persia  to  autonomy,  the  Slavs  of  Austria-Hungary  to 
equal  rights  with  Germans  and  Magyars  under  the 
Hapsburgs,  the  Shantung  peninsula  to  China,  Ireland 
to  home  rule,  and  all  the  dependencies  of  the  United 
States  to  self-government.  Of  course  these  are  only 
samples ;  there  are  eighteen  peoples  and  nations  within 
the  former  confines  of  Russia;  there  are  certainly  two 
Chinas,  perhaps  three ;  within  the  Balkan  peninsula  are 
five  different  claimants  to  self-directing  nationality. 

To  those  who  have  deeply  studied  history  these 
are  not  the  words  of  soberness  and  sense.  Since  the 
world  began  there  have  been  aggregations  of  individ- 
uals united  by  blood  or  territory  but  mainly  by  com- 
mon interest,  the  respublica:  throughout  the  ages 
some  have  shown  capacity  for  self-government,  some 
have  not.  Society  in  the  large  sense  did  not  originate 
in  physical  strength,  there  never  were  gorilla  com- 
munities reliant  on  their  own  brute  strength  for  pro- 
tection against  marauders  while  practising  the  arts  of 
peace  in  the  tillage  of  their  fields.  There  was  no  up- 
lift toward  civilization  in  the  hunter  stage  and  no 
smooth  transition  from  that  to  the  nomadic  and 
further  to  the  settled  occupations  of  fields,  villages, 


OUR  CONCEPTS 


371 


and  towns.  In  every  case  known  to  research  there 
were  wars  and  convulsions  from  which  guile,  that 
is,  mind,  emerged  triumphant  over  brute  force.  It 
was  the  union  of  physical  weakness  which  produced 
the  strength  essential  to  security:  there  was,  of  course, 
constant  warfare,  but  fortification,  tactics,  and 
strategy,  however  primitive,  overwhelmed  sheer  brute 
onset;  organization  conquered  numbers,  nerve  power, 
which  is  will  power,  began  the  never-ceasing  relegation 
of  animalism  into  the  limbo  of  impotence.  Then 
history  began ;  ideals  were  formed ;  the  statesman  out- 
ran the  general  even,  in  all  that  makes  for  progress. 
Why  civilization  moved  westward  to  Europe  and 
crossed  the  Atlantic  is  understood  and  can  be  ex- 
plained, but  not  in  a  few  words.  The  fact  is  sufficient 
and  the  vestiges  of  its  march  are  an  open  book  to  the 
traveller.  What  was  initially  true  remained  true; 
that,  around  the  globe  there  were  and  are  degrees  of 
culture  among  persons  and  peoples,  that  the  inequal- 
ity of  adaptation  to  high  forms  of  living  is  glaring, 
and  that  the  social  institutions  of  the  few  are  abso- 
lutely impossible  to  the  many,  that  politics  must  fit 
a  nation  like  a  garment  and  that  misfits  cause  unrest 
with  recourse  to  violence.  Past  and  present  are 
words  totally  destitute  of  meaning  in  the  grand  poli- 
tics of  our  planet.  The  past  is  in  the  present,  it  is 
here  and  now  as  regards  institutions,  laws,  and  forms 
of  government. 

We  cannot  burn  this  fact  deep  enough  into  our 
souls.  It  is  a  crime  against  humanity  to  think  of 
other  peoples  in  terms  of  ourselves  and  our  folkways: 
in  terms  of  our  ideals  and  efforts  to  realize  them. 
There  is  no  reprobation  sufficient  for  that  trend  toward 
intervention  of  a  narrow  self-sufficiency  which  con- 
ceives of  the  savage,  the  barbarian,  the  man  of  the 
tribe,  the  city-state,  and  the  modern  nation  in  its 
varied  forms,  as  either  desiring,  or  needing,  the  com- 


372        AMERICA  AND  THE  PEACE: 


plexlties  of  free  democracy.  How  far  even  we  our- 
selves are  fit  to  work  the  most  perplexing  and  expen- 
sive system  of  government  ever  devised  is  as  yet  un- 
determined. But  for  the  free  chance,  the  unhampered 
opportunity  to  realize  our  ideals,  we  have  sweated 
money  and  blood;  we  lay,  and,  please  God,  we  ever 
will  lay  our  lives  and  fortunes  on  the  altar  of  political 
liberty — hitherto  we  have  made  our  enormous  sacri- 
fices for  ourselves  and  those  within  our  gates,  hence- 
forth, we  make  the  same  free-will  offering  for  the  great 
world  without,  in  so  far  as  it  desires  our  gifts  and  can 
by  their  acceptance  strengthen  its  own  purposes  and 
fructify  the  blossoms  of  its  own  aspiration.  We  shall, 
indeed,  be  foolish  if  in  the  coming  enforcement  of 
peace  there  is  any  effort,  successful  or  otherwise,  to 
impose  on  any  or  all  the  stratified  humanity  of  the 
world  our  dim,  vague,  yet  precious  and  vital  notions 
of  nationality  and  constitutional  government;  or  of 
democracy,  that  iridescent  arch  of  promise  in  our 
heaven. 

Such  a  preamble  to  peace  negotiation  was,  however, 
forced  on  the  allies  and,  chilling  many  ardent  reform- 
ers, continues  to  be  stigmatized  as  reactionary.  The 
plea  is  hypocritical  and  Pharisaic  because  the  merest 
wayfarer  can  read  the  clear  truth:  peace  stability 
depends  on  national  institutions  being  a  good  fit  and 
no  institutions  from  a  second-hand  shop  will  fit  any 
single  nation  when  the  war  is  over.  Japan  wants  a 
limited  autocracy — strange  oriental  contradiction  in 
terms — and  has  it.  What  Russia  or  the  many  Rus- 
sias  desire  they  must  eventually  secure,  monarchy 
with  or  without  checks  and  balances.  France  must 
remain  a  centralized  republic  or  oligarchy  as  it  is  or 
turn  federal  republic,  as  has  been  proposed.  And  so 
on  throughout  the  list,  with  stable  governments 
there  can  be  peace,  without  them  none.  There  are 
careful  thinkers  holding  the  conviction  that  when 


OUR  CONCEPTS 


373 


Bismarck  set  up  the  Thiers  government  and  gave  it 
the  prestige  of  ending  the  war  of  1870,  he  knew  the 
device  could  barely  outlast  a  generation.  If  we  want 
an  armistice  let  us  by  all  means  not  merely  set  up 
foreign  governments  which  correspond  to  our  own 
notions  and  continue  to  maintain  them  by  military 
and  economic  force;  if  we  want  peace  let  the  respec- 
tive peoples  mould  and  maintain  their  own  in  order 
to  have  within  their  borders  the  only  peace  which 
can  insure  peace  without. 

This  is  a  novelty  in  the  relation  of  nations  to  each 
other  because  in  the  passing  and  antecedent  ages  the 
contracting  parties  under  international  law  have 
without  exception  had  governments  imposed  on  them 
by  the  hard  hand  of  history  or  custom,  or  else  by  the 
hostile  temper  of  each  nation  regarding  every  other. 
The  only  country  working  a  system  made  by  a  con- 
stitutional or  constituent  assembly  is  our  own;  and 
to  this  single  fact  we  owe  the  rock-ribbed  durability 
of  the  constitutions  under  which  we  live,  state  and 
federal.  How  shameful  such  an  outcome  !  many  will 
exclaim.  Perhaps.  It  remains  a  fact  that  "shame 
in  the  mantle  of  profit  or  advantage  to  its  citizens  has 
ever  been  pronounced  wisdom."  There  is  no  inherent 
absolute  right  in  sentimentality  or  emotionalism; 
neither  is  there  any  in  the  pragmatism  based  on  ruth- 
less, selfish  practicality.  But  in  perpetuating  a  peace 
with  a  people  content  in  its  particular  form  of  govern- 
ment there  is  no  emotionalism  whatever  and  no  prag- 
matism, there  is  just  an  effort  to  secure  what  the 
world  has  set  out  to  get.  Antecedent  to  the  smooth 
working  of  the  next  world  charter  the  peoples  must— 
not  by  plebiscite,  a  futile  deceptive  tricky  device,  but 
in  representative  assemblies  select  and  instruct  their 
negotiators,  responsible  delegates  of  the  popular  will, 
constitutional  bodies  with  power  to  maintain  or  to 
discard  the  men  and  groups  who  have  made  and 


374         AMERICA  AND  THE  PEACE 


conducted  the  war.  Mere  appointees  of  a  party 
machine  or  a  ruHng  caste  cannot  negotiate  anything 
stable  and  bring  in  the  reign  of  new  principles  in  inter- 
national relations.  If  theoretical  independence  is  to 
be  replaced  by  actual  interdependence  the  fact  must 
be  proclaimed ;  if  not  there  can  be  no  enduring  peace, 
Mephistopheles  declares:  "I  am  a  part  of  the  force 
which,  ever  desiring  evil,  yet  always  creates  the  good." 
Possibly  there  is  something  basic  in  good  resulting 
from  evil  as  it  does;  but  impatient  democracy  calls 
for  a  good  beginning  that  there  may  be  surely  a  good 
end. 


IV 


FURTHER  CONCEPTS  OF  THE  PEACE 

POPULAR  PARTICIPATION  IN  MAKING  WAR  AND  PEACE  SO  FAR  VERY  SLIGHT 
— LEGAL  ABILITY  AND  TECHNICALITY  IN  CONTROL  OF  INTERNATIONAL 
RELATION.  CHANGE  DEMANDED — THE  IDEAL  OF  PUBLICITY  IN  DI- 
PLOMACY AND  ARBITRATION.  THE  NEW  INTERVENTION — DEMAND  FOR 
DIRECT  POPULAR  CONTROL  IN  PUBLIC  LAW.  DAILY  EXPEDIENTS  FOR 
DAILY  NEEDS — CONSPICUOUS  EXAMPLE  OF  THE  UNITED  STATES  IN 
HARMONIZING  MUNICIPAL  WITH  PUBLIC  LAW — A  STILL  GREATER  NOV- 
ELTY IS  INTERVENTION  BY  WAR  TO  MAINTAIN  IDEALS,  NOT  FOR  MA- 
TERIAL GAIN — THE  INTERVENTION  OF  ALL  EXISTING  STATES  IN  EACH 
other's  affairs  AS  AN  ADVANCE  TOWARD  PERPETUAL  PEACE:  ST. 
PIERRE,  ROUSSEAU,  BENTHAM,  KANT,  WHEATON — THE  MOBILIZATION 
OF  DEMOCRATIC  STATES  FOR  PEACE  A  COROLLARY  OF  THEIR  MOBILIZA- 
TION FOR  WAR.  QUESTIONS — FAILURE  OF  OLD  EXPEDIENTS  TO  ANSWER 
THEM.  THE  ECONOMIC  INTERPRETATION  AS  A  KEY — FALLACIES  TO  BE 
EXPOSED — DUTY  TO  POSTERITY.  CONSERVATION  OF  NATURAL  RE- 
SOURCES— THE  INTEGRATION  OF  DEMOCRACY — ANTAGONIZED  BY  NA- 
TIONALISM— NEUTRALIZATION  OF  AMERICAN  AS  WELL  AS  OF  OTHER 
INTERESTS.     THE  IMPERIAL  DOMAIN  AND  THE  PANAMA  CANAL. 

Some  years  ago  there  was  made  under  the  writer's 
supervision  a  careful  study  of  how  far  the  people  of 
Great  Britain  or  their  parHament  had  been  concerned 
in  either  the  declarations  of  war  or  negotiations  for 
peace  since  the  Congress  of  Vienna.  In  every  case 
her  ministers  had  acted  with  true  British  individual- 
ism and  it  may  be  asserted  that  war  was  either  de- 
clined or  declared  by  secret  diplomacy,  generally  by 
the  personal  act  of  the  premier  or  minister  for  foreign 
affairs.  In  a  far  higher  degree  public  opinion  has  been 
consulted  and  followed  in  the  wars  waged  by  the 
United  States:  even  the  Mexican  War,  so  detested  by 
New  England  and  the  Anti-Slavery  men  of  the  North, 
has  come  to  appear  in  a  new  light,  as  a  retort  in  pres- 
ervation of  our  self-respect  to  a  shameless  oligarchy 
using  us  as  an  ogre  wherewith  to  lash  a  barbarous 
people  into  warlike  frenzy  for  the  support  of  their  own 
ambitions.    Nevertheless,  the  Treaty  of  Ghent,  the 

375 


376    FURTHER  CONCEPTS  OF  THE  PEACE 


Treaty  of  Guadaloupe  Hidalgo,  and  the  Treaty  of 
Paris,  1898,  which  ended  the  Spanish-American  War, 
were  products  one  and  all  of  personal  statesmanship, 
finding  in  the  process  of  ratification  by  the  Senate  a 
menacing  opposition  which  yielded  from  patriotic 
motives  to  save  the  face  of  an  administration.  As  far 
as  continental  European  nations  are  concerned  there 
has  been  no  pretense,  whether  in  absolute  or  limited 
monarchies,  not  even  in  the  highly  centralized  republic 
of  France,  that  the  people  through  their  representa- 
tives had  any  capacity  for  negotiation.  Only  a  few 
highly  trained  men  in  each  country  have  thought 
internationally;  from  their  scanty  ranks  have  been 
chosen  the  comptrollers  of  international  destinies  in 
war;  their  conduct  and  correspondence  have  reflected 
secret  instructions  from  a  bureaucratic  hierarchy. 

The  successive  treaties  of  peace  negotiated  by  such 
men  have  been  based,  therefore,  on  the  nineteenth- 
century  conception  of  international  law  and  relations; 
a  law  which  in  the  hands  of  professional  lawyers  has 
tended  more  and  more  to  become  a  system  of  case  law, 
parallel  to  municipal  or  positive  law,  rather  than  the 
expression  of  the  precepts  of  a  moral  law  accepted  by 
all  civilized  peoples.  Particularly  in  the  decisions  of 
national,  notably,  of  course,  British,  prize  courts  there 
has  been  a  source  of  friction  between  nations  rather 
than  a  strengthening  of  ties  across  a  common  inter- 
national understanding.  The  history  of  international 
arbitrations  is  proof  of  this:  entrusted  for  the  most 
part  to  mixed  international  courts,  composed  for 
each  party  urging  its  plea,  and  likewise  for  the  arbi- 
trator, of  some  men  expert  in  public  law  and  other 
men  expert  in  the  private  law  of  their  respective 
countries,  the  decisions  are  a  mixture  of  law  and 
equity,  totally  incomprehensible  to  the  lay  mind  and 
generally  exasperating  to  the  losers.  That  they  rep- 
resent in  the  main  exact  justice  is  generally  admitted, 


FURTHER  CONCEPTS  OF  THE  PEACE  377 


but  as  a  portion  of  international  law,  quite  as  recondite 
as  diplomacy,  they  arouse  no  enthusiasm  and  some  sul- 
lenness  in  the  popular  mind.  The  press  and  the  public 
have  come  to  expect  a  new  procedure  consonant  with 
new  ideas  in  both,  regarding  negotiations  for  peace, 
war,  or  alliance.  If  we  are  to  make  peace  through 
elected  popular  representatives,  we  must  also  make 
alliances  in  times  of  peace  in  the  same  way,  if,  indeed, 
there  are  to  be  any  alliances  hereafter:  and  arbitra- 
tions must  be  carried  forward  by  lay  courts,  excluding 
certainly  the  practitioner  of  national  law  and  possi- 
bly the  professional  publicist.  What  is  believed  to 
be  homely  democratic  common  sense  is  to  determine 
reciprocal  advantage  or  disadvantage,  political,  social, 
and  economic,  especially  the  last.  The  expert  may  be 
called  to  advise,  but  his  judgment  is  only  ancillary 
to  higher  considerations.  The  people,  or  the  tribunes 
of  the  people,  shall  decide  what  to  demand  and  what  to 
sacrifice,  what  political  advantage  to  forego  in  defeat 
and  what  to  exact  as  the  price  of  victory. 

That  diplomacy  and  arbitration  should  be  matters 
of  publicity,  controlled  by  public  opinion,  destitute  of 
technicalities,  is  fondly  desired  since  it  would  give  per- 
manence to  their  achievements  and  create  alike  peace 
and  good  will  among  men.  All  treaties  would  de- 
pend for  observance  and  validity,  not  on  the  needs  of 
ages  long  gone  by,  nor  on  (what  was  given  ages  be- 
fore) the  plighted  faith  of  an  organic  state  with  un- 
broken continuity  and  identity;  nor  on  the  shifting 
sands  of  self-interest ;  but  on  the  contentment  arising 
from  their  correspondence  with  the  changing  desires 
of  the  contracting  parties.  We  all  recognize  that  such 
feeling  is  idealistic,  but  the  ideals  of  to-day  may  be 
the  facts  of  to-morrow.  Indeed,  such  has  been  the 
course  of  all  history.  Take  an  example  or  two: 
When  the  cross-bow  was  invented  and  used  in  battle 
it  was  denounced  from  the  chair  of  St.  Peter  as  a 


378    FURTHER  CONCEPTS  OF  THE  PEACE 


lethal  weapon,  an  invention  of  the  devil,  and  was  for- 
bidden in  civilized  warfare.  Gunpowder  overthrew 
one  state  of  society  and  inaugurated  another.  Nat- 
ural science  has  furnished  the  world  with  a  succession 
of  mortars,  guns,  explosives,  missiles,  and  deadly 
bombs  of  smoke  and  poisonous  gas  which  not  only 
strip  war  of  all  chivalry  toward  a  foe,  but  prolong  its 
duration,  and  heap  up  the  living  and  dead  in  moun- 
tains of  mutilated  bodies,  called  human,  but  too  foul 
and  mangled  for  the  shambles.  The  murders  at 
Jaffa  which  made  Napoleon  Bonaparte  a  monster  in 
the  eyes  of  Europe,  would  in  our  day  be  regarded  as 
trivial,  an  error  of  judgment  at  the  worst.  The  causes 
of  our  war  with  Spain  were  a  veiled  but  actual  mission- 
ary zeal,  brought  to  the  exploding  point  by  the  main- 
tenance of  a  yellow  fever  pest-house  at  an  important 
doorway.  To  intervene  for  such  reasons  in  the  affairs 
of  a  friendly  power  would  have  been  thought  intoler- 
able by  our  fathers,  but  we  have  not  ceased  to  con- 
gratulate ourselves  amid  the  plaudits  of  a  majority  of 
civilized  men.  The  higher  must  crush  the  lower 
civilization  or  perish  itself.  If  Samuel  had  not  hewed 
Agag  in  pieces,  Agag  would  have  hewed  Samuel  in 
pieces.  Similarly  there  was  general  approval  when 
Japan  wiped  Corea  off  the  map,  because  the  effete 
Coreans  did  not  occupy  their  land  in  a  way  beneficent 
to  the  rest  of  mankind. 

All  these  are  instances  of  how  ideals,  apparently 
wild,  have  proved  practical  and  have  been  realized ;  of 
how  later  generations  regard  with  equanimity  and  even 
admiration  practices  once  considered  abhorrent.  Let 
us  be  humble  and  charitable  in  the  face  of  such 
startling  truths,  and  let  us  not  sneer  when  we  are  told 
that  King  Demos  is  about  to  take  the  complicated 
matters  of  negotiating  peace,  declaring  war,  com- 
posing differences  of  opinion  and  interest,  and  con- 
ducting diplomatic  negotiations,  into  his  own  hands 


FURTHER  CONCEPTS  OF  THE  PEACE  379 


and  dispense  with  governmental  intermediaries.  His 
plan  could  not  possibly  work  worse  than  that  which 
has  been  tried  for  ages  and  been  found  wanting.  The 
organs  he  needs  are  to  be  created  for  the  momentary 
purpose  and  then  destroyed,  the  arguments  necessary 
for  the  present  are  not  to  be  encumbered  by  tradition 
and  are  to  last  only  while  those  who  make  them  are  sat- 
isfied. Americans  will  for  the  moment  put  up  with 
any  administration,  however  dictatorial,  and  with  the 
exercise  of  arbitrary  power  to  any  degree;  cherishing 
the  consolation  that  the  next  election  for  president 
will  end  what  may  be  felt  intolerable.  Our  society 
seems  to  find  the  term  of  office  too  long  and  chafes: 
it  is  prepared  to  try  a  new  experiment:  to  banish 
permanence  and  all  the  accumulated  experience  of 
the  past  from  international  law.  Centralization  and 
continuity  with  identity  and  moral  responsibility 
have  been  the  avowed  goal  of  national  evolution — and 
the  end  thereof  has  apparently  been  the  negation  of 
all  civilization.  The  proud  boast  of  natural  and 
economic  science  was  that  great  empires  are  essential 
to  cosmic  order  in  the  world,  each  enormous  federa- 
tion managing  its  external  relations  with  a  view 
to  further  its  internal  interests,  and  so  minimizing  the 
number  of  parties  at  the  international  bar.  Were 
there  but  five  great  powers  in  the  whole  world  it 
would  be  fairly  simple  for  the  people  to  choose  repre- 
sentatives, establish  a  parliament  of  states  and  en- 
force its  decrees  against  any  one  or  even  two  states 
refusing  obedience.  But  with  fifty  powers  each  claim- 
ing equality  as  under  the  older  and  vanishing  law  of 
nations  such  a  league  would  be  very  hard  to  form  and 
harder  still  to  maintain.  The  idea  was  over-weighted 
and  the  boast  a  bubble. 

The  example  of  the  United  States  is  a  stirring  one. 
Here  are  forty-eight  commonwealths,  each  free,  in- 
dependent, and  sovereign  as  regards  internal  matters. 


38o    FURTHER  CONCEPTS  OF  THE  PEACE 


but  under  the  stern  restrictions  of  a  central  govern- 
ment which  only  thirteen  had  any  share  in  creating. 
Each  must  have  a  democratic  republican  form  of 
government;  each  must  respect  the  laws  of  all  the 
rest;  each  commends  interstate  relations  to  the  cen- 
tral power ;  each  must  obey  the  behests  of  the  federa- 
tion in  matters  of  war,  peace,  and  diplomacy;  inter- 
national treaties  are  paramount  to  municipal  law; 
every  type  of  inequality  as  to  population,  territorial 
size,  and  representation  is  tolerated;  federal  courts  of 
all  varieties  and  kinds  of  jurisdiction  take  precedence 
over  others;  local  self-government  has  its  limits 
strictly  defined ;  there  is,  in  short,  an  illustration  here 
of  how  international  relations,  interstate  relations, 
and  the  internal  afifairs  of  half  a  hundred  semi-au- 
tonomous governments  not  only  can  be,  but  actually 
are,  combined  in  a  harmonious  and  efficient  working. 
This  fact  has  not  passed  unnoticed  by  enlightened  ob- 
servers the  world  around.  Earlier  in  this  discussion 
it  has  been  emphasized  that  out  of  mediaeval  condi- 
tions there  was  produced  the  embryo  of  a  United 
States  of  Europe  known  as  its  state  system,  that  there 
have  been  striking  parallels  and  coincidences  in  the 
historical  development  of  its  members,  and  that  the 
absolutism  which  made  the  states  yielded  to  constitu- 
tional monarchy,  while  democracy  steadily  grew  in 
extent  and  intensity  until  we  first  devised  and  realized 
the  idea  of  a  short-term  elective  king,  and  of  revising 
at  intervals  both  politics  and  institutions  so  as  to  in- 
sure liberty  under  equity  as  well  as  law  in  each  of  our 
commonwealths,  and  then  advanced  to  the  completed 
federal  union  under  which  we  live.  It  is  no  wonder 
then  that  the  peoples  of  the  world  have  keenly  ob- 
served and  keenly  criticized  the  American  system, 
and  at  this  conjuncture  of  events  either  long  for  or 
revolt  against  its  expansion. 

It  admits  of  no  possible  contravention  that  an  en- 


FURTHER  CONCEPTS  OF  THE  PEACE  381 


during  peace  must  be  negotiated  not  by  officials  rep- 
resenting governments,  but  by  men  chosen  for  the 
purpose  by  popular  vote,  assisted,  of  course,  by  ex- 
perts of  their  selection.  It  now  seems  equally  clear 
that  in  the  new  social  world  under  the  new  sanctions 
of  international  law,  the  consent  namely  of  those  who 
are  to  live  in  peace,  there  must  be  a  wide  play  for 
differences  of  opinion  based  on  differences  of  culture 
and  tradition.  We,  for  example,  declared  a  state  of 
war  through  a  representative  president  and  a  repre^ 
sentative  congress,  under  the  solemn  conviction  of  the 
people  that  our  self-respect  was  already  jeopardized: 
that  our  long-suffering  was  interpreted  as  weakness, 
and  that  our  very  existence  consequently  was  at  stake 
in  the  final  arbitrament  of  war.  Dare  we  forget  that 
now  when  hostilities  have  ceased,  others  feel  as  we 
were  feeling,  that  justice  demands  a  certain  degree  of 
consideration  for  their  social,  political,  and  institu- 
tional identity,  and  that  what  we  have  fought,  died, 
and  paid  for  is  nothing  more  or  less  than  the  superb 
Anglo-Saxon  heritage  of  fair  play,  not  alone  for  our- 
selves, but  the  rest  of  mankind  in  a  world  as  motley 
in  disposition,  temperament,  and  ideals  as  the  colors 
of  a  tartan  plaid  or  a  patchwork  quilt.  We  shall  have 
the  right  as  time  passes  and  things  settle  down  to 
know  through  their  popular  representatives  what 
other  peoples — not  administrations  or  bureaucracies  or 
plutocratic  combinations — but  what  the  peoples  con- 
sider essential  to  their  self-realization  in  territory,  in 
nationality,  in  form  of  government.  Knowing  that, 
we  must  practise  the  sternest  self-restraint  in  imposing 
on  those  unfit  for  them,  American  institutions,  which 
are  after  all  not  so  very  perfect  a  fit  for  us  who  wear 
them.  This  making  a  peace  by  representatives  would 
be  a  kind  of  intervention  utterly  different  from  what 
history  knows  by  that  name,  and  would  go  to  an  ex- 
tent far  beyond  what  the  past  has  dared  to  consider; 


382    FURTHER  CONCEPTS  OF  THE  PEACE 


yet  it  would  save  the  face  of  all  the  parties  to  the  com- 
ing tests  of  the  new  treaty  and  might  further  the  en- 
during peace  of  the  world.  As  our  respective  states 
intervene  in  each  other's  affairs  through  the  federal 
government,  so  a  higher  development  of  international 
law  would  tolerate  a  higher  degree  of  intervention  than 
ever  before,  because  it  would  be  different  in  kind, 
corresponding  to  the  democratic  temper  of  a  new  age. 

The  phrase,  enduring  peace,  is  a  most  attractive 
one  as  the  goal  toward  reaching  which  we  strain  every 
effort.  Jeremy  Bentham,  as  we  have  seen,  in  an 
epoch  quite  as  humiliated  and  exasperated  by  the 
failure  of  historical  expedients  as  our  own,  took  refuge 
in  pure  theory  to  find  his  plan  for  universal  and  endur- 
ing peace.  Doubtless  he  was  familiar  with  his  pred- 
ecessors St.  Pierre  and  Rousseau,  but,  to  recall  what 
was  said  before,  the  elaboration  of  the  federal  scheme 
is  his  own.  Briefly  stated,  he  demanded  a  congress  of 
deputies,  two  from  each  existing  state,  which  should 
determine  international  disputes.  Its  decrees  were 
to  be  enforced  against  any  state  that  might  assist  them 
by  the  combined  power  of  the  rest.  As  a  preliminary 
condition  he  required  the  reduction  of  military  estab- 
lishments and  the  abandonment  by  European  nations 
of  their  colonies.  Kant  likewise,  as  has  already  been 
stated,  exposed  the  dangers  inherent  in  military  pre- 
paredness. His  vision  required  a  confederation  of 
states  all  under  republican  constitutions  and  acting 
in  international  affairs  through  congresses  to  be  held 
from  time  to  time.  There  are  most  startling  resem- 
blances between  the  plan  of  Kant  and  the  plans  of 
contemporary  reformers,  a  fairly  complete  realiza- 
tion of  which  can  be  seen  in  our  American  system. 
But  both  these  forerunners  spoke  to  heedless  ears  and 
properly  so:  the  world  was  still  unready,  and  unready 
it  yet  remains,  although  enormous  advance  toward 
their  ideals  has  been  made  except  in  three  respects: 


FURTHER  CONCEPTS  OF  THE  PEACE  383 


military  establishments  have  been  increased,  not  di- 
minished; colonial  empires  have  been  enlarged,  not 
curtailed  or  abandoned ;  and,  worst  of  all,  the  very  best 
and  most  highly  civilized  peoples  mobilize  the  credits 
of  an  organized  society  to  unheard-of  limits  so  as 
to  support  and  enlarge  the  war-power  of  the  nation 
by  supplying  ever  more  horrible  weapons  of  offense 
and  defense;  so  that  posterity,  which  is  to  enjoy  the 
benefits,  may  pay  most  of  the  costs.  Is  it  any  wonder 
that  sane  and  finite  minds  are  in  despair  and  declare 
with  Wolff,  Wheaton,  and  the  half-Kantian  school 
that  the  only  feasible  advance  in  international  law  is 
a  codification,  such  as  was  begun  in  the  St.  Peters- 
burg and  Geneva  conventions,  continued  in  the 
treaties  of  Paris  and  Washington  (1842),  but  never 
completed.  The  behests  of  international  justice, 
examined  in  the  light  of  experience  and  magisterially 
stated — even  by  a  single  text  writer,  much  more  so  by 
an  official  peace  congress — compel  attention  always 
and  sometimes  obedience  by  the  sheer  force  of  moral 
correctness. 

It  is,  indeed,  democracy  with  a  vengeance  when  a 
population  of  a  hundred  million  or  more,  a  great  power 
with  all  its  dependencies,  is  mobilized  in  taxation, 
labor,  conscription,  commerce,  finance,  and  even  the 
fine  arts  (camouflage  and  vigilantes)  mobilized  from 
children  of  both  sexes  to  the  aged  of  both  sexes  for 
the  conduct  of  a  war.  Yet  exactly  this  has  democra- 
tized the  autocracies  and  made  both  class  and  mass 
conscious  each  of  its  correct  value  in  the  state.  In 
Russia  the  boiler  exploded,  in  England  socialization 
to  a  degree  never  imagined  has  taken  place,  in  France 
radicalism  and  socialism  have  ranged  themselves  with 
the  middle  class  and  abandoned  the  counsel  of  despair; 
the  German  people  began  to  express  in  19 18,  sotto 
voce,  a  doubt,  in  dazed  wonder,  whether  their  rulers 
had  or  had  not  misled  them;  they  now  proclaim  the 


384    FURTHER  CONCEPTS  OF  THE  PEACE 


certainty  both  in  word  and  deed,  while  throughout  the 
southeast  of  Europe  the  semi-civiHzations  are  disen- 
chanted with  the  type  of  nationaHzation  and  the 
theory  of  nationality  which  have  proved  a  pestilential 
delusion  in  their  politics.  If  we  have  democratic 
war  we  must  have  democratic  negotiation  and  demo- 
cratic intervention ;  using  the  word  democratic  in  the 
sense  of  majority  consent  to  the  final  arrangements 
made  by  a  peace  congress  representative  of  the  peoples 
participating  in  it.  Let  us  therefore  once  more  re- 
peat that  the  conference  had  two  very  distinct  sets 
of  questions:  one,  those  primary  to  the  outbreak 
of  the  war,  the  other,  those  which  had  arisen  during 
its  course,  the  secondary  ones.  Why  was  recourse 
had  to  arms  and  who  began  the  horror  ?  What  intol- 
erable offenses  have  been  committed  and  how  pre- 
vent them  hereafter?  Can  democracy  disarm  and 
will  it?  Could  European  powers  abandon  their 
colonies  and  will  they  ?  Could  public  finance  eschew 
war  loans  and  the  people  insist  on  it?  Could  the 
state  system  of  the  world  be  divided  into  a  few  vol- 
untary federations  which  will  meet  regularly  in  con- 
gresses to  preserve  and  enforce  peace,  or  must  the 
previously  existing  political  combinations  be  splint- 
ered into  a  multitude  of  separate  states  asserting  each 
its  nationality  in  kinship,  religion,  laws,  and  institu- 
tions ?  Could  a  liberty  of  the  seas  and  a  freedom  of 
trade  in  all  markets  be  devised  and  entrusted  to  the 
police  guardianship  not  of  one  power,  but  of  a  union 
of  all  powers?  When  there  is  a  demand  for  self- 
direction  by  an  oppressed  nationality,  what  must  be 
the  numerical  strength,  the  territorial  size,  and  the 
degree  of  culture  essential  to  the  granting  of  such  a 
request  ? 

These  questions  were  not  enumerated  in  a  spirit  of 
irony.  They  were  importunate  and  imperative.  No 
answer  was  possible  on  the  basis  of  historical  experi- 


FURTHER  CONCEPTS  OF  THE  PEACE  385 


ence.  The  past  is  rolled  up  as  a  scroll  and  its  oracle 
is  dumb.  No  degree  of  homogeneity  in  blood,  lan- 
guage, or  even  aspiration  has  so  far  secured  to  large 
numbers  unity  of  nationality.  There  have  been  the 
bitterest  hostility  in  civil  war,  the  fiercest  struggle 
for  mastery  between  kinsfolk  of  one  nation  and  their 
blood  relations  of  another.  The  ambitions  of  men  and 
parties  regardless  of  every  tie  have  delivered  over  the 
multitudes  of  mankind  and  the  fairest  portions  of  the 
earth  to  murder  and  devastation.  No  devotion  to  re- 
ligious confession  or  to  political  constitutions  could 
prevent  schism  or  woo  the  dove  of  peace.  The 
mystery  of  conciliation  between  conflicting  interests 
has  never  been  solved.  In  the  years  just  antecedent 
to  this  war  there  was  much  confidence  that  economic 
history,  or  history  of  wider  scope  called  social  history, 
would  afford  the  key.  It  was  pointed  out  that  river 
systems  with  their  alluvial  lands  and  easy  transporta- 
tion had  been  the  iearliest  seats  of  agricultural  pros- 
perity. The  wild,  brave  peoples  of  surrounding  des- 
erts or  of  mountain  chains  had  envied  the  wealth  and 
luxury  of  the  early  river  empires  and  finally  had  re- 
duced them  to  submission  by  armed  and  organized 
force,  a  process  repeated  just  as  often  as  the  successive 
invaders  and  possessors  grew  effeminate  through 
luxury.  Again  there  were  peoples  whose  seats  on  the 
seashore  made  them  the  traders  and  middlemen  of 
the  time,  gathering  raw  material  from  undeveloped 
lands  and  enriching  themselves  by  the  commerce  of 
manufactured  articles.  These  too  in  turn  aroused 
envy;  and  piracy  was  the  normal  form  of  barbaric 
sea  relations.  Then  a  rude  form  of  international  law 
began  to  regulate  the  ocean  highway,  reacting  on  the 
shore  and  continental  peoples  to  render  safer  the  lines 
of  traffic  by  land.  Thereupon  necessity  invented 
money  and  credits,  the  whole  system  of  international 
banking  in  embryo.    While  nations  were  content  with 


386    FURTHER  CONCEPTS  OF  THE  PEACE 


the  home  market  for  natural  products  and  manu- 
factured goods,  there  could  be  little  friction:  when 
they  began  to  export  both  in  a  fairly  even  balance  of 
exports  and  imports  the  peace  could  still  be  maintained 
by  clever  negotiation:  but  when  finally  nations  be- 
come creditors,  exporting  money  to  exploit  undevel- 
oped lands  under  an  alien  sovereignty  then  hostility 
begins  in  the  minds  of  the  creditor  states  and  di- 
plomacy becomes  little  more  than  a  suspensive  process 
to  prolong  the  truces  between  wars. 

Very  interesting,  very  instructive,  partly  true,  this 
economic  solution  of  the  mystery.  To  the  negotiation 
of  a  peace,  however,  it  added  still  greater  complexity 
than  even  the  consideration  of  nationalities  and  nat- 
ural boundaries  so  modified  as  to  give  every  state 
a  shore  line  on  the  high  seas.  The  peace  conference 
has  had  to  partition  the  undeveloped  earth,  which  is 
at  least  sixty  per  cent  of  its  land  surface,  into  spheres 
of  influence  for  nations  with  money  to  lend.  Incom- 
pletely, secretly,  and  timidly,  that  had  already  been 
done;  but  the  secret  must  out,  the  world  must  know 
what  all  the  respective  treaties  are  which  relate  to 
every  creditor  nation  and  every  debtor  power.  The 
common  talk  is  very  incendiary:  that  Cuba  is  the 
appanage  of  a  sugar  trust,  and  Central  America  of  a 
fruit  trust,  and  Mexico  reduced  to  its  sorry  plight  by 
the  embittered  strife  of  two  embattled  oil  trusts,  cop- 
per trusts,  hemp  trusts,  and  the  like.  The  most 
specious  falsehood  of  ours  and  every  similar  crisis  is 
the  unblushing  declaration  that  all  war  is  ignoble  be- 
cause at  bottom  it  is  the  capitalistic  class  which  profits 
while  the  middle  class  of  tradespeople  and  artisans 
make  all  the  sacrifices,  even  of  family  and  life  itself. 
This  fallacy  is  the  basis  of  pacifism :  self-respect  cannot 
be  personal  unless  it  is  both  national  and  international, 
honor  is  impossible  in  a  dishonored  family  or  a  cring- 
ing state,  when  both  cheeks  have  been  smitten  so- 


FURTHER  CONCEPTS  OF  THE  PEACE  387 


cially,  life  itself  commands  resistance  and  battle  fury. 
For  the  non-existent  there  can  be  no  God ;  while  there 
is  life,  there  is  the  embryonic  concept  of  God  as  the 
Lord  and  Giver  of  Life,  whose  gift  we  must  defend 
at  any  cost  or  hazard  until  overpowered.  We  are 
not  overpowered  when  first  we  think  so:  there  is  a 
second  and  a  third  wind ;  survival  is  a  matter  of  nerves, 
of  courage,  and  the  will  to  live. 

Another  of  the  questions  which  rise  like  highest 
peaks  among  the  minor  ones,  is  that  of  what  we  owe 
to  posterity.  If  we  have  any  memory  we  must  recall 
our  own  long  and  acrid  discussions  seven  years  ago  of 
what  one  civilized  generation  owes  to  those  who  are 
to  come  after,  of  what  the  fathers  owe  to  those  for 
whose  existence  and  nurture  they  are  responsible. 
We  have  styled  this  question  the  conservation  of  nat- 
ural resources:  forests,  mines,  water-power;  natural 
beauty  in  national  parks,  historical  monuments,  and 
all  collections  of  aesthetic  or  traditional  value.  The 
French,  in  1812,  tried  to  reduce  to  ruin  the  splendid 
churches  of  the  Kremlin  and  assembled  the  art 
treasures  of  the  world  in  Paris:  they  merited  and 
received  universal  reprobation.  The  Germans  have 
destroyed  with  ruthlessness  the  mediaeval  architecture 
of  Belgium  and  France  on  the  plea  of  necessity  and 
have  brought  on  their  rulers  and  themselves  a  just  and 
general  despite.  Such  vandalism  can  never  be  covered 
by  indemnities,  the  ruin  is  final.  Within  our  own 
land  it  has  not  been  possible  to  awaken  the  public 
indignation  and  secure  legislation  until  geological 
structure  and  prehistoric  remains  have  been  irrepara- 
bly injured.  As  to  natural  resources  the  greed  of  a 
single  generation,  the  self-styled  empire-builders,  has 
in  our  day,  under  our  operation,  torn  from  the  com- 
mon store  a  stupendous  private  wealth  which  terrifies 
its  possessors,  exasperates  the  public,  and  is  by  many 
considered  a  menace  to  organized  government  estab- 


388    FURTHER  CONCEPTS  OF  THE  PEACE 


lished  for  the  general  good.  At  first  it  seemed  futile 
to  inject  the  control  of  natural  resources  and  beauty 
into  a  peace  conference.  But  how  about  China? 
Such  a  reservoir  of  every  known  commodity  in  and  on 
the  earth  exists  nowhere  else.  It  has  long  since 
aroused  the  covetousness  of  the  outside  world.  Its 
fervid  and  kindred  neighbor  Japan  asserts  an  un- 
divided interest  and  no  peace  can  last  a  generation 
which  does  not  settle  the  degree  in  which  Europe  and 
America  are  to  participate  in  what  we  like  to  call  the 
regeneration  of  the  Middle  Empire.  In  this  likewise 
lies  the  nerve-ganglion  of  the  Russian  question.  Who 
are  to  be  the  capitalists:  how  are  the  enterprises  to 
be  divided  ? 

Let  us  not  be  appalled  by  what  we  have  taken  into 
consideration  as  the  necessary  contents  of  the  peace 
which  ought  to  have  been  made  and  was  not.  The 
universe  of  social  relations  has  been  the  background 
of  every  war  and  every  peace,  and  will  continue  so 
to  be  until  the  end.  What  we  are  facing  is  another 
step  forward  or  backward  as  the  case  may  be,  in  the 
definitions  of  sovereignty,  independence,  and  equality. 
Certain  notions  of  each  have  been  relegated  to  the 
discard,  and  into  the  Gehenna  whose  fire  is  not 
quenched  have  gone  the  principles  of  action  which  cor- 
respond to  them.  Something  more  than  a  century 
ago  the  French  aspiration  which  goes  by  the  name  of 
Napoleon  was  for  progressive  conquest  as  an  aid  to  pro- 
gressive federation.  Then,  as  now,  things  went  so 
far  as  to  produce  two  halves  of  what  was  to  be  ce- 
mented into  one  whole,  a  world-empire  on  the  model  of 
Rome.  The  known  and  civilized  world  of  that  day 
was  larger  than  the  basin  of  the  Mediterranean  which 
constituted  the  Roman  world.  Neither  diplomatic 
nor  military  science  could  compass  its  dimensions  and 
the  imperial  idea  was  routed  by  that  of  nationality. 
The  state  system  emerged  from  the  Napoleonic  age 


FURTHER  CONCEPTS  OF  THE  PEACE  389 


with  every  one  of  the  three  notions  just  enumerated 
indurated  and  sharply  outlined:  with  a  concept  of 
nationality  based  on  common  origin,  common  lan- 
guage, and  constitutional  government  totally  tri- 
umphant, except  in  Prussia  and  Austria. 

Throughout  the  last  century  there  was  a  steady 
expansion  of  the  nationalistic  idea  and  from  the 
biased  studies  of  nationalists,  backed  by  the  dynastic 
instinct  of  self-preservation,  grew  all  the  abortive 
movements  known  as  "pan"  this,  that,  and  the  other. 
Not  merely  these  poisonous  weeds,  but  a  deadly  night- 
shade known  as  nationalization.  It  was  no  longer 
"cujus  regio,  ejus  religio;"  that  survived,  but  it  be- 
came "cujus  regio,  ejus  natio."  Within  the  realm  of 
Russia,  a  terrorizing  Russification  of  Finns,  Germans, 
Poles:  within  that  of  Austria  a  Germanization  of 
Czecho-Slovaks,  within  that  of  Hungary  the  Magyari- 
zation  of  Jugo-Slavs  and  Roumanians.  The  "melt- 
ing pot"  idea  was  America's  pet  concept:  let  us  not 
forget.  Only,  we  used  the  instruments  of  suasion  and 
education,  not  of  force  and  terror,  such  treatment  as 
in  Germany  made  Danes,  Lorrainers  and  Poles  more 
nationalistic  than  ever.  Then,  too,  submerged  na- 
tionalities came  to  the  surface  and  became  vociferous, 
about  thirty-eight  within  the  Russian  Empire  alone, 
most  of  which  have  so  far  been  intimidated.  But 
Servians,  Bulgarians,  Roumanians,  Armenians,  have 
compelled  a  hearing  and  where  the  chief  bone  of  con- 
tention, the  Macedonians,  belongs  is  still  a  riddle. 
What  the  orderly  development  of  western  civiliza- 
tion exacts  as  the  condition  of  its  very  being  is  the 
delimitation  of  boundaries  in  a  great  territory  to  the 
east  of  the  central  powers:  a  vast  expanse  now  spot- 
ted and  splashed,  without  definite  boundaries,  here 
and  there,  all  over,  by  noisy,  crude,  emergent  nation- 
alities, fiercely  set  on  recognition  and  making  har- 
mony impossible  without  stern  repression.    In  the 


390    FURTHER  CONCEPTS  OF  THE  PEACE 


case  of  every  one  the  task  of  the  peace  delegates  was 
a  redefinition  of  all  three  bases  for  international  law. 

Besides  finding  new  definitions  there  must  be  a 
sifting  and  ordering  of  all  the  multifarious  problems 
which  importune  solution  and  regulation  at  the  con- 
ference or  congress,  whichever  it  is  to  be.  These 
matters  are  inseparable:  for  a  conference  there  could 
be  one  order  of  business,  for  a  congress  of  elected 
plenipotentiaries,  quite  another.  It  begins  to  look 
as  if  this  last  will  eventually  be  necessary;  the  Paris 
conference  has  fixed  the  new  principles  and  general 
arrangements  incident  to  success  in  war  and  the  essen- 
tial primary  terms  of  peace  regarding  those  outstand- 
ing questions  which  brought  on  the  war,  with  abso- 
lutely no  regard  to  which  party  gave  the  push  that 
toppled  the  unstable  equilibrium.  This  accomplished, 
and  the  principle  of  the  League  of  Nations  having 
been  accepted,  there  will  have  to  be  a  parliament  not 
of  men  appointed  by  governments,  but  of  elected  rep- 
resentatives from  the  great  powers  and  little  powers 
recognized  in  the  peace,  sitting  long  and  debating  de- 
liberately all  the  portentous  novelties  of  the  hour. 
The  new  intervention,  the  limitation  of  armaments, 
the  status  of  colonies,  the  freedom  of  the  seas,  and 
the  spheres  of  markets,  are  the  gamut  of  social  and 
economic  reforms  demanded  by  the  closer  federation 
of  states  which  is  sure  to  come  if  the  peace  is  to  have 
any  durability.  This  is  all  a  very  staggering  pro- 
gramme to  be  suggested  by  any  single  man  or  group 
of  men.  But  modesty  is  not  violated  by  it  because, 
as  our  phrase  runs,  all  these  suggestions  are  in  the  air. 
Some  familiarity  with  both  American  and  foreign 
opinion  convinces  me  that  no  single  one  of  all  the 
propositions  contained  in  this  chapter  is  totally  novel; 
neither  the  enumeration  of  questions  nor  the  means 
to  their  settlement. 

It  is  my  firm  conviction  that  this  is  no  time  for  men 


FURTHER  CONCEPTS  OF  THE  PEACE  391 

of  vision  to  be  dumb.  Practical,  hard-working,  con- 
scientious statesmen  have  their  hands  full  with  recon- 
struction after  war:  and  the  people  themselves  as  well 
as  their  representatives  have  been  nobly  striving  with 
singleness  of  purpose  to  do  their  full  share.  All 
statesmanship  is  a  choice  between  two  courses,  neither 
of  which  may  be  ideal,  but  one  of  which  is  more  prac- 
tical than  the  other.  Some  things  can  be  done  imme- 
diately, others  can  wait  a  little  and  still  others  some- 
what longer.  There  is  fortunately  a  general  con- 
fidence in  the  administration  as  it  has  been  working 
since  war  was  forced  upon  us.  Party  lines  were  al- 
most obliterated  and  there  was  a  union  of  sentiment 
which  produce  a  glorious  unity  of  action.  With  the 
smooth,  efficient  working  of  our  representative  govern- 
ment in  the  appalling  crisis  of  war  we  may  well  be 
content.  But  there  is  something  of  almost  equal  im- 
portance to  be  accomplished,  the  preparation  of  pub- 
lic opinion  by  full  debate  for  the  conclusion  of  the 
whole  matter.  Already  there  is  a  dawning  of  fairness 
and  justice  in  the  minds  of  Americans  of  the  older 
stock  toward  those  of  the  later  stock,  still  bound  by 
close  ties  of  blood  and  tradition  to  European  lands. 
It  is  a  splendid  promise.  If  charity  at  home  can 
minimize  the  passionate  intensity  of  conviction  re- 
garding those  who  have  adopted  the  same  home  for 
reasons  other  than  those  of  long  descent  and  vested 
interest,  there  is  a  well-founded  hope  that  when  the 
fires  of  war  are  burned  out  the  reprobation  of  bar- 
barity and  frightfulness  may  be  moderated  to  a  state- 
ment of  principle,  firm  and  strong,  but  for  that 
reason  gentle. 

Mendacity  and  hypocrisy  can  never  be  stated  con- 
vincingly. At  the  risk  of  further  presumption  an 
effort  must  be  made  to  state  the  causes  of  this  war 
simply,  and  without  bias.  As  everywhere  in  collective 
or  personal  life  there  were  grievous  faults;  mistakes, 


392    FURTHER  CONCEPTS  OF  THE  PEACE 

blunders,  and  misrepresentations  not  exactly  on  both 
sides,  for  there  were  many  sides,  but  all  around  the 
circumference  of  European  politics.  Even  we  our- 
selves were  objects  of  suspicion  after  the  Spanish 
War  gave  us  insular  and  non-contiguous  possessions, 
an  outcome  suggesting  in  some  measure  imperial  am- 
bitions; and  when  silly  politicians  began  to  talk  of 
annexing  Canada,  when  the  Panama  Canal  was 
finished  and  trade  was  diverted  from  former  channels, 
then  it  seemed  to  British,  French,  and  Germans  that 
we  were  a  menace  to  the  established  order.  We  were 
not  very  sure  about  the  matter  ourselves,  and  in  a 
vacillating  hesitancy  gave  ourselves  no  trouble  to  ex- 
plain. We  were  so  sure  that  our  purpose  was  to  im- 
prove transportation  between  our  two  ocean  coasts 
and  so  clear  as  to  our  laws  about  coastwise  shipping 
that  it  was  only  when  all  Europe  began  to  denounce 
our  greed  that  we  understood  our  liability  to  miscon- 
struction and  amended  our  legislation  according  to 
the  outsiders'  understanding  of  our  treaty  rights. 


V 


ORIGINS  OF  THE  WAR:  PRIMARY  NEGOTIATIONS 

THE  UNSTABLE  EQUILIBRIUM  OF  INTERNATIONAL  RELATIONS — RELIG- 
IOUS RIVALRIES  IN  THE  CENTRE  AND  EAST  OF  EUROPE — USE  OF  THEM 
BY  ABDUL  HAMID  FIRST  PHASE  OF  GERMAN  ASCENDANCY — TRANS- 
FORMATION OF  POLICIES  IN  PROSPERITY — THE  STATE  OF  THE  GERMAN 

MIND  DIVIDED  JUDGMENTS  BUT  UNITY  OF  PURPOSE.     REALPOHTIK — 

TURKEY  ABANDONED  BY  GREAT  BRITAIN  ADOPTS  GERMANY — PAN-GER- 
MANY AND  IMPERIAL  EXPANSION — DELCASSE  AND  KING  EDWARD.  THE 
SECRECY  OF  THE  ENTENTE — OUTCOME  OF  THE  DIPLOMATIC  REVOLU- 
TION— RESPECTIVE  RESPONSIBILITIES  OF  THE  BELLIGERENTS — THE 
CHIEF  CAUSE  OF  THE  WAR — THE  CONTRIBUTING  CAUSES.  BELGIUM 
AND  SERVIA — GREAT  SERVIA  ASPIRATIONS.     ITALIAN  POLICY. 

International  relations  have  some  resemblance  to 
a  pyramid  balanced  in  delicate  equipoise  on  its  apex. 
With  such  an  instance  of  unstable  equilibrium  it  is  not 
difficult  for  an  accomplished  politician  so  to  juggle  as 
totally  to  conceal  the  slight  impulse  which  oversets 
it.  Generations  pass  before  state  papers  even  of  a 
single  nation  see  the  light.  When  opened  to  research 
we  find  there  are  three  kinds:  the  secret,  the  confi- 
dential, and  the  ordinary  all-official.  In  addition  there 
is  the  personal  correspondence  of  the  statesmen  of  the 
day,  generally  invaluable  as  a  source  of  history.  To 
this  hour  families  in  Great  Britain  and  America  are 
making  new  contributions  to  the  history  of  1776, 
and  even  yet  the  darkness  which  broods  over  some 
facts  is  impenetrable.  As  to  the  present  war  the 
world  has  made  up  its  mind  about  who  began  it  and 
what  caused  it,  and  slowly  public  opinion  is  shaping 
itself  to  considerable  indifference  about  both,  realizing 
that  a  world-wide  democratic  revolution  could  not 
possibly  be  accomplished  without  terrific  throes  for 
the  conservation  of  nationality.  The  readjustment 
of  international  politics  to  a  social  state  emerging  not 
in  one,  but  in  all  nations,  was  likewise  bound  to  pro- 

393 


394 


ORIGINS  OF  THE  WAR: 


duce  an  explosion.  Hence  we  do  well  to  cease  further 
efforts  to  fix  guilt  and  bend  our  energies  to  settle 
rivalries  as  they  were,  in  order  to  minimize  the  rival- 
ries certain  to  reappear. 

In  western  Europe  the  church  was  the  mother  of 
the  state  and  the  severing  of  filial  ties  has  been  a  long, 
bloody  struggle.  In  central  Europe  those  ties  still 
exist  with  considerable  binding  force.  In  eastern 
Europe  the  state  and  church  are  still  one,  with  the 
preponderance  resting  in  the  secular  authority.  The 
states  of  eastern  Europe,  therefore,  govern  in  large 
measure  through  the  church,  and  the  German  Empire 
was  never  made  inclusive  of  all  Germans  lest  a  Roman 
Catholic  majority  should  oppress  the  almost,  but  not 
quite,  equally  strong  Protestant  minority.  The  ultra 
conservatives  of  three  confessions,  Protestant,  Roman, 
and  Greek,  have  powerfully  opposed  every  step  toward 
harmonizing  political  differences  between  Austria- 
Hungary,  Russia,  and  Germany.  The  Prussian 
squirearchy  is  arch-Protestant.  When  the  fanatical 
element  of  Turkey  is  added  to  the  conflict,  the  con- 
fessional question  of  middle  and  eastern  Europe  be- 
comes a  source  of  exasperation  and  of  extreme  danger. 
Of  the  national  and  nationalizing  question  as  a  well- 
spring  of  bitterness,  enough  has  been  said,  but  we 
must  not  forget  for  a  single  moment,  that  to  be  a 
Roman  Catholic  is  just  as  essential  to  the  com- 
position of  a  Pole  as  his  birth.  Slavic  Romanists; 
Poles,  Czecho-Slovaks  and  Croatians  vs.  Slavic  Greeks; 
Servians,  Jugo-Slavs  in  Bulgaria,  Roumania,  and 
Greece,  in  Bosnia-Herzegovina  as  well;  there  is  an 
antinomy  which  must  be  seen  to  be  grasped.  Greek 
Russia  protecting  Greek  Slavs.  Roman  Austria- 
Hungary  protecting  Roman  Slavs  and  governing  a  few 
Greek  ones.  Here  has  been  one  of  the  blasts  into  the 
furnace  seven  times  heated  of  which  we  have  heard 
almost  nothing. 


PRIMARY  NEGOTIATIONS  395 


Wild  Europe,  indeed  !  But  with  a  welter  of  quarrels 
concerned  almost  solely  with  the  final  disposition  of 
wild  Europe.  Could  the  forces,  physical,  spiritual, 
and  military,  of  these  primitive  peoples  be  united  into 
a  working  organism  they  would  control  their  own 
destinies.  But  their  untrained  minds  have  been  fed 
on  the  historical  husks  of  antiquity  and  medisevalism 
until  they  have  rendered  themselves  contemptible 
by  exploiting  madcap,  imperialistic  conceptions  and 
have  made  their  lands  and  resources  an  object  of 
covetousness  to  the  highly  organized  great  powers. 
The  system  of  a  wily  sultan  just  gone  to  his  reward, 
whatever  it  is,  Abdul  Hamid,  was  simple;  to  array 
the  ambitions  of  the  Balkan  states  and  those  of  the 
European  empires  against  each  other;  and  then  to 
rule  amidst  the  consequent  ruin.  For  two  genera- 
tions the  diplomacy  of  states  in  central  and  western 
Europe  was  mainly  concerned  with  the  check,  counter- 
check, and  stalemate  of  each  other  in  southeastern 
Europe.  The  deeper  causes  of  the  war  were  in  the 
Balkans;  the  wars  of  the  petty  Balkan  states  to  oust 
Turkey  began  at  home;  their  object  partly  accom- 
plished, they  turned  and  fought  each  other  for  the 
spoils  on  specious  pleas  of  history,  nationality,  institu- 
tions, and  confession;  and  the  jar  which  toppled  the 
European  card-house  was  carefully  planned  to  be  given 
there.  Such  a  deluge  of  official  exculpation  as  over- 
flowed the  world  in  the  shape  of  "books"  of  every  color 
is  a  novelty  in  the  relations  of  states  to  each  other. 
Every  government  pointed  with  thumb  over  shoulder 
at  the  rest,  exclaiming  self-righteously :  this  is  no 
work  of  mine  and  you've  got  to  believe  it.  The 
ofifense  had  to  be,  but  woe  to  him  by  whom  it  came  ! 

Contemporary  history  began  with  the  federation  of 
Germany  and  the  unification  of  Italy.  The  steps  by 
which  Austria-Hungary  was  reconciled  with  the  Ger- 
man Empire  were  the  deliberate  preference  by  Bis- 


396  ORIGINS  OF  THE  WAR: 


marck  of  the  former  to  Russia  in  building  for  the 
future,  the  alienation  of  Italy  from  France  by  the 
latter's  annexation  of  Tunis,  the  completed  Triple 
Alliance,  and  the  hegemony  of  Germany  which  lasted 
for  an  entire  generation,  as  that  of  France  had  for  the 
previous  one.  In  Great  Britain  things  German  were 
the  fashion:  and  friction  with  France  increased  be- 
cause of  colonial  rivalries.  The  inevitable  retort  to 
the  Triple  Alliance  was  the  foregathering  of  the  two 
states  which  are  marginal  on  either  side,  to  wit — 
Russia  and  France.  One  was  wounded  in  her  pride, 
the  other  threatened  with  the  permanent  loss  of  her 
position  as  a  great  power.  By  rattling  the  victorious 
sword  of  Prussia  in  its  scabbard  on  the  west,  and  by 
occasional  compliments  toward  the  east  the  inevitable 
was  postponed  until  William  II  became  German  Em- 
peror; and,  a  little  later,  the  subsequent  deposition  of 
Bismarck,  when  the  Dual  Alliance  became  a  reality. 
It  was  a  reality  rich  in  moral  effect,  but  for  long  totally 
destitute  of  practical  result :  a  modern  democracy  and 
an  antiquated  Oriental  despotism  do  not  mate  well. 
By  a  policy  almost  as  adroit  as  Bismarck's,  the 
Emperor  William  encouraged  the  French  colonial 
policy  on  one  hand,  and  Russian  expansion  eastward, 
on  the  other;  thus  in  the  skilful  use  of  a  balancing- 
pole  maintaining  the  German  ascendancy  on  the  tight- 
rope of  diplomacy  as  late  as  1904,  when  unforeseen  in- 
fluences became  a  menace  to  Germany  on  her  dizzy 
height. 

For  it  was  a  dizzy  height,  not  alone  politically,  but 
economically  and  even  morally  in  the  sense  of  expand- 
ing and  confirming  the  German  "folkway,"  the  Ger- 
man "thing  in  itself."  With  military  preponderance 
secure,  diplomatic  predominance  apparently  assured, 
and  Great  Britain  no  wise  alarmed,  there  began  and 
continued  without  a  break  from  the  treaty  of  Ber- 
lin (1878)  onward  such  an  economic  transformation 


PRIMARY  NEGOTIATIONS  397 


as  cannot  be  paralleled  in  history.  It  embraced 
agriculture,  manufactures,  and  commerce  in  all  their 
ramifications.  Population  kept  equal  step  and  ad- 
vanced from  forty-one  to  sixty-seven  millions.  Which 
was  cause  and  which  effect  is  difficult  to  determine. 
There  was  such  an  expansion  of  markets  and  shipping 
that  two  demands  seemed  imperative,  one  for  both 
military  and  commercial  fleets,  one  for  colonies.  Of 
the  undeveloped  regions  suitable  for  a  European  popu- 
lation in  Asia,  Africa,  or  America  and  Polynesia  very 
few,  if  any,  were  left  and  most  of  the  unclaimed  spots 
were  promptly  occupied,  according  to  the  time- 
honored  custom,  by  other  European  powers.  But 
the  insignificant  colonial  acquisitions  of  Germany  did 
not  suffice  in  even  a  minimal  degree.  Great  indus- 
trial establishments  in  larger  numbers  were  founded 
and  these  with  the  ancillary  banking  and  credit  facili- 
ties added,  absorbed  the  ever  increasing  population. 
The  birthrate  diminished  somewhat,  but  sanitation 
and  a  thoroughgoing  socialization  of  labor  prolonged 
life  so  that  there  was  a  steady  rate  of  increase  in  the 
population.  Towns  grew  in  size  at  the  expense  of 
the  country,  but  agricultural  labor  was  abundant  on 
the  Slav  borders  and  every  year  hundreds  of  thou- 
sands crossed  into  Germany  for  seed-time  and  harvest, 
to  return  home  at  the  close  of  the  season.  With  in- 
tensive agriculture  based  on  imported  fertilizers  and 
imported  labor,  with  an  industrial  system  living  on 
scientific  processes  and  home  labor,  with  a  fleet  grow- 
ing enormous  and  with  leviathan  merchant  ships  on 
every  sea,  with  an  elaborated  art  of  selling  goods  that 
were  cheap  and  good,  adapted  likewise  to  the  different 
markets,  the  business  of  the  empire  advanced  every 
decade  in  geometrical  ratio  until  it  rivalled  that  of 
Great  Britain.  It  was  inevitable  that  many  patriotic 
Germans  should  begin  to  consider  Germany's  future 
as  the  world  power  she  already  was. 


398  ORIGINS  OF  THE  WAR: 


From  such  a  dizzy  height  of  material  prosperity 
weak  minds,  the  vast  majority,  turned  confused  and 
haughty.  The  saner  minority  grew  profoundly  de- 
pressed by  the  moral  effect  of  economic  superfluity; 
the  transformation  of  spiritual  into  material  ideals. 
Throughout  the  years  just  antecedent  to  the  war, 
men  of  good  will  and  solid  wisdom  were  questioning 
themselves  and  every  sympathetic  visitor  about  the 
changes  in  sex  morality,  in  literature  and  art,  in 
philosophy,  in  the  luxury  of  living  and  extravagance, 
in  that  elusive  thing  the  German  mind.  Among  the 
high-minded  there  was  great  uneasiness,  exactly  as 
there  was  in  every  civilized  land — only  in  Germany 
the  increment  of  wealth  being  proportionally  greater 
and  its  use  largely  in  the  control  of  those  unaccustomed 
to  elegant  living,  there  was  a  proportionally  greater 
uneasiness  in  the  minds  of  the  elect  few.  But  the 
tide  was  irresistible,  Berlin,  Munich,  and  Vienna  vied 
with  Paris  as  the  capitals  of  a  corrupt  pleasure,  which, 
moreover,  was  especially  offensive  because  of  gross- 
ness  and  bad  manners.  This,  too,  in  spite  of  the  spot- 
less family  life  of  most  of  the  courts,  including  that  of 
Berlin,  which  from  the  domestic  point  of  view  was  pure 
and  noble.  The  impatient  arrogance  of  the  military 
caste  grew  in  exact  proportion  to  the  ever  greater  in- 
terests with  which  they  believed  themselves  to  be 
intrusted.  The  superior  authority  struggled  to  sup- 
press chauvinism ;  barracks  were  removed  to  the  sub- 
urbs of  the  towns,  officers  wore  civilian  clothing  more 
than  before,  manoeuvres  were  held  in  remoter  dis- 
tricts and  generally  military  pomp  was  suppressed. 
Certain  braggarts,  however,  were  not  to  be  suppressed 
and  found  a  restricted  public  of  readers.  The  im- 
perial circle  iterated  the  policy  of  German  lands  for 
Germans  and  denied  all  lust  for  further  territorial 
expansion.  The  world  conquest  for  which  a  cam- 
paign was  possible  would  be  pacific,  the  peaceful  pene- 


PRIMARY  NEGOTIATIONS  399 


tration  of  trade  and  civnlization  by  a  new  diplomacy 
of  travel  and  commerce.  German  tourists  and  com- 
mercial agents  began  to  flood  the  world  highways, 
carrying  in  their  sacks  a  conception  of  German  values 
which  to  those  among  whom  they  came  seemed  offen- 
sively exaggerated,  overweeningly  patronizing.  The 
academic  classes  were  the  busiest.  Themselves  arid 
and  unoriginal,  they  proved  to  be  most  adroit  in  adap- 
tations and  applications  of  old  concepts  to  new  con- 
ditions. With  a  kind  of  elephantine  trumpeting  the 
world  was  summoned  to  worship  at  the  shrine  of  a 
pornographic,  orientalized  art,  a  long,  outworn  theory 
of  the  state,  a  philosophy  of  negation  verging  on  he- 
donism, and  above  all  of  a  bureaucratic,  over-special- 
ized regimen  which  quenched  all  initiative  in  the  in- 
dividual; a  collectivism  just  as  inhuman  and  intolera- 
ble on  that  side  as  the  absurd  overweighted  individual- 
ism on  this. 

This  colossal  arrogance  was  a  form  of  insane  folly. 
Beside  it  and  permeating  life  was  a  smug  self-satisfac- 
tion, mistaken  for  contentment  by  the  millions.  Above 
it  was  a  substantial  minority  deprecating  the  situa- 
tion and  foreseeing  the  consequences.  Fully  aware 
of  foreign  resentments,  the  writing  classes  attributed 
them  to  vulgar  jealousy,  and  there  was  a  general  half 
conviction  to  that  effect.  Yet  without  haste,  without 
rest,  the  movement  continued  until  there  was  a  wide- 
spread and  sincere  conviction  that  Germany  had  a 
mission,  and  that  mission  was  to  regenerate  the  world 
by  opening  its  eyes  to  German  "virtue"  as  the  remedy 
for  all  ills,  peacefully  if  possible,  by  arms  if  necessary. 
Powerful  voices  proclaimed  war  as  a  purifier,  the  uni- 
versities roused  a  spurious  patriotism  based  on  the  so- 
called  duty  to  enforce  the  German  good  if  called  to  do 
so.  The  Pan-Germans  became  vociferous  for  the 
annexation  of  all  lands  where  Germans  dwell;  the 
Colonialists  for  expansion  by  settlement.    From  every 


400  ORIGINS  OF  THE  WAR: 


political  hustings,  from  the  throne  to  the  tavern, 
peace  was  preached  as  essential  to  the  germinating  of 
the  seeds  of  German  influence,  yet  the  tone  of  all  the 
orators  was  slightly  defiant ;  a  proof  of  fear,  of  such  a 
timid  sensitiveness  as  had  not  hitherto  characterized 
Germany.  The  man  in  the  street,  like  the  man  in 
the  chair,  was  ominously  touchy.  Manifestly  pro- 
fession and  practice  could  not  long  keep  equal  step. 
Finally  these  shiverings  took  substance  in  the  proc- 
lamation of  opportunism  in  politics,  based  on  British 
methods,  and  despising  consistency  as  a  vulgar  vir- 
tue: real  politics,  go  for  what  you  want.  The  out- 
standing fact  was  finally  recognized :  that  Russia  was 
the  menace  to  Germanism.  England  had  been  for  a 
period  fairly  sympathetic,  and  on  the  whole  indifferent, 
but  the  Slav  was  becoming  aggressive.  Russification 
threatened  the  two  superior  classes  of  the  Russian 
empire;  brutal  nationalizing,  tyrannical  extirpation 
of  language  and  tradition,  were  destroying  Teutonism 
both  in  Finland  and  the  Baltic  provinces;  the  lower 
was  strangling  the  higher  civilization  at  the  very 
portals  of  Prussia.  When  at  last  the  cordial  under- 
standing of  France,  Russia,  and  England,  the  En- 
tente, began  to  encircle  all  Germany  with  a  hostile 
ring,  of  which  Russia  was  the  contiguous  link  to  the 
east,  men  hitherto  dispassionate  began  to  write  that 
such  bonds  could  only  be  severed  by  force  of  arms. 
Your  born  soldier  must  occasionally  rattle  sabre  and 
spur,  stroke  his  martial  mustachios  and  make  a  fierce 
face.    So  far  it  went,  but  no  farther. 

The  case  was  very  similar  regarding  world  policy 
or  imperialism.  Bismarck  was  a  savage  foe  to  colonies 
and  imperialism.  When  colonies  were  still  going, 
he  refused  them  and  left  Germany  the  compact  entity 
she  was,  egging  on  the  French  to  waste  their  money 
and  soldiers  in  disjointed  enterprises  sure  to  bring  her 
into  collision  with  Great  Britain,  as  proved  to  be  the 


PRIMARY  NEGOTIATIONS  401 


case  at  both  ends  of  the  Nile.  There  are  still  plenty 
of  conservative  Germans  who  think  as  Bismarck  did, 
that  colonies  are  a  nuisance  and  an  expense,  likewise 
that  the  natural  ally  for  Prussia  and  the  German  em- 
pire always  was  and  always  will  be  Russia,  despite 
Russian  corruption,  trickery,  and  political  incertitude. 
Its  boundless  resources  furnish  the  finest  possible  field 
for  exploitation,  and  the  peaceful  penetration  of  Ger- 
mans into  the  great  land,  based  on  the  influence  at 
court  of  German  "  Baltics  "  had  gone  a  long  way.  But 
the  Nicholas  system  of  ruthless  Russification  filled 
Germany  with  exiled  "Baltics"  who  were  both  vin- 
dictive and  adroit.  With  the  advent  of  William 
and  the  withdrawal  of  Bismarck,  a  choice  had  to  be 
made  between  Russia  and  Austria-Hungary  and  the 
choice  fell  on  the  latter.  There  was  no  longer  a  Ger- 
man diplomat  who  knew  how  to  divide  and  rule,  or 
rather  to  woo  both  parties  to  a  hopeless  quarrel  and 
neutralize  their  power  by  pitting  dififerent  cross-pur- 
poses against  each  other.  Besides  this  was  that  con- 
juncture of  events  when  Lord  Salisbury  finally  aban- 
doned Turkey  to  its  fate,  content  through  the  un- 
divided possession  of  Egypt  with  the  absolute  control 
over  the  Mediterranean  and  the  ocean  highway  to 
both  the  nearer  east  and  to  India.  As  a  distinguished 
Turkish  journalist  said  to  the  present  writer:  fac- 
ing complete  disruption  we  had  to  hire  the  protection 
of  some  great  power  and  we  offered  all  our  concessions 
to  Germany.  The  temptation  was  great  and  there 
began  a  very  definite  policy  of  peaceful  expansion 
into  the  near  east  with  apparently  a  firm  fulcrum  in 
the  Asia  Minor  railway  concessions.  But  just  there 
the  German  intellectuals  intervened  with  a  flood  of 
books,  pamphlets,  and  articles,  sorely  warped  by 
prejudice  and  an  almost  infantile  irresponsibility 
concerning  a  world  policy. 

For  the  support  of  this,  history  and  philosophy 


402  ORIGINS  OF  THE  WAR: 


were  summoned  to  the  witness-box.  There  was  to 
be  a  central  Europe  like  that  created  by  the  treaty 
of  Verdun,  in  843,  the  great  German  rivers  were  to 
be  controlled  from  fountainhead  to  sea  as  bulwarks, 
the  Rhine  as  a  western  outlet,  the  Danube  as  an 
eastern;  the  Slav  peril  was  to  be  removed  by  con- 
quest or  peaceful  persuasion;  the  great  highroad 
across  the  Balkans  with  Turkish  aid  was  to  prolong  it- 
self over  hither  Asia  to  Persia  and  the  Persian  Gulf; 
Germans  wherever  found  were  to  be  folded  in,  like 
stray  sheep,  in  order  to  enforce  the  German  idea  where- 
ever  they  might  be;  and  an  iridescent  vision  of  new 
horizons  was  exhibited  to  the  already  intoxicated 
brain  of  a  people  naturally  sane  and  sober,  with  an 
inborn  sense  of  proportion  and  limit  which  had  been 
strengthened  by  ages  of  classical  study.  The  tri- 
umphs of  applied  science  had  already  shaken  these 
foundations,  the  trumpetings  of  battalions  were  a 
summons  to  disdain  the  lessons  of  experience  and 
enter  on  the  career  of  adventure  not  only  on  one 
or  two  continents,  but  in  Asia,  the  islands  of  the  sea, 
and  even  in  America,  where  many  Germans  and 
many  more  German  descendants  were  supposed  to 
exercise,  north,  south,  and  centre,  a  commanding 
influence  totally  disproportionate  to  their  numbers, 
simply  because,  being  Germans,  they  must  be  children 
of  light.  We  have  all  had  the  pathetic  experience 
of  beholding  these  outland  Germanics  dazed,  con- 
fused, outraged  by  the  expectations  formed  in  an 
over-elated  home-country  of  what  they  could  not 
possibly  do,  because  in  overwhelming  mass  they  had 
abandoned  a  Germany  of  which  they  disapproved 
to  dwell  amid  conditions  which  they  had  helped  to 
make  and  of  which  they  highly  approved.  What- 
ever dependence  the  Pan-German  chauvinist  had 
placed  on  outland  Germans  proved  to  be  a  broken 
reed.    Every  effort  was  made  to  assemble  Teutonic 


PRIMARY  NEGOTIATIONS  403 


forces  of  every  description  alike  in  offense  and  de- 
fense, but  the  only  success  was  further  to  exasperate 
those  among  whom  tiiey  dwelt  and  create  for  the 
aliens  or  semi-aliens  an  intolerable  social  position. 
The  Germanics  of  high  principle  and  sagacious 
minds  rallied  to  their  adopted  lands,  ready  to  fight 
for  home  and  fireside  against  every  aggressor,  includ- 
ing the  lands  of  their  origin. 

Two  facts  precipitated  the  inevitable  conflict: 
one  was  an  awakening  of  French  spirit,  the  other  was 
British  alarm  at  the  menace  to  her  ascendancy  in 
commerce  and  manufactures.  By  1898,  clericalism 
and  political  reaction  having  been  buried,  the  new 
French  generation  had  eliminated  all  the  other  dis- 
integrating factors  from  French  politics,  including 
not  only  ultramontanism  and  ecclesiasticism,  but 
militarism  and  sectionalism;  the  nation  felt  its 
strength  and  resolved  no  longer  to  live  in  bondage 
to  fear.  Almost  simultaneously  Great  Britain  dis- 
covered, or  rather  roused  itself  to  the  dangers  of  its 
"splendid  isolation"  from  continental  politics,  noted 
in  dismay  the  details  of  German  rivalry  by  land  and 
sea,  began  to  grow  frigid  in  its  hitherto  kindly  rela- 
tions with  the  German  empire  and  resolved  on  an 
aggressive  trade  policy  as  ruthless  as  that  of  its  ugly 
rival.  In  consequence  there  ensued  the  diplomatic 
revolution  which  presaged  the  encompassing  and 
checking,  not  so  much  of  German  growth  as  of  Ger- 
man aspirations.  The  new  France  was  personified 
in  Theodore  Delcasse,  the  new  Britain  in  King  Ed- 
ward. Both  were  weary  of  a  diplomacy  which  em- 
bittered both  countries  with  each  other,  and  France 
with  Italy,  while  Germany  was  keeping  Russia  in 
good  humor  by  permitting  her  indefinite  expansion 
across  Asia.  The  former  became  minister  of  foreign 
affairs  at  Paris,  in  1898,  and  held  office  until,  in  1905, 
Germany  demanded  his  removal,  a  humiliation  to 


404 


ORIGINS  OF  THE  WAR: 


which  his  government  and  people,  totally  unready 
even  for  defense,  had  to  submit.  In  1900  King 
Edward  VII  succeeded  his  mother,  and  SaUsbury 
made  way  for  Lansdowne.  To  a  German  tendency 
in  throne  and  cabinet  succeeded  one  which,  though 
not  exactly  hostile,  had  distinctly  a  bent  toward  re- 
storing the  balance  of  an  older  order,  of  stripping 
from  Germany  the  hegemony  she  had  so  long  en- 
joyed. In  what  follows  the  word  king  means  the 
secret  junta  of  Edward,  Lansdowne,  and  Grey: 
Delcasse,  assisted  by  Paul  Cambon,  inspired  the  legis- 
lature and  people  of  France  blindly  to  follow  his  lead 
as  one  who  had  won  their  enthusiastic  confidence;  a 
representative  of  the  new,  united,  impatient  France. 
The  work  of  both  was  accomplished  by  the  ancient 
methods  of  secrecy,  personal  influence,  and  log-roll- 
ing. Quite  innocently,  in  the  statements  made  pub- 
lic, Italy  and  France  agreed  to  be  friends,  as  did  Great 
Britain  and  Russia;  what  the  moving  spirits  secretly 
arranged  and  the  sanctions  they  put  behind  their  revo- 
lutionary plans  has  dribbled  into  publicity  little  by 
little,  though  even  yet  the  controlling  points  are  un- 
known. As  the  scroll  of  facts  has  been  unrolled  it 
appears  that  every  treaty  was  purposely  left  obscure 
in  its  salient  points,  and  that  such  obscurities  were 
explained  as  occasion  served  by  question  and  answer 
between  officials  of  both  sides.  The  peoples  of  the 
respective  nations  and  the  world  are  still  largely  in  the 
dark;  and  the  governments  refuse  to  publish  the 
papers.  Even  German  espionage  could  not  pene- 
trate the  Cimmerian  blackness.  It  amused  the 
"cordial  understanding"  to  watch  its  rivals'  blind 
man's  buff  diplomacy;  even  we  Americans  wondered 
why  at  the  Conference  of  Algeciras  our  representa- 
tive voted  in  every  single  instance  with  France. 
What  were  his  instructions  and  who  gave  them  ? 
The  final  outcome  of  diplomatic  reconstruction  was 


PRIMARY  NEGOTIATIONS  405 


a  gentlemen's  agreement  forming  an  actual  league  of 
offense  and  defense  to  end  the  nuisance  of  German 
vaporing.  The  bureaucracy  of  the  empire  was  and  is 
the  mainspring  of  imperial  action.  As  time  has 
passed  every  so-called  indiscretion  of  the  emperor 
proves  to  have  been  a  carefully  studied  utterance  of 
the  bureaucratic  regime.  So  we  use  kaiser  or  tsar 
with  no  slightest  personal  meaning.  Every  autocrat 
is  the  slave  of  his  own  creatures,  or  of  the  system; 
Nicholas  was  a  cringing  slave;  William  a  laborious 
servant  of  duty,  as  a  finite  mind  may  grasp  it  in  his 
office.  But,  however  much  he  may  have  striven  to 
use  his  personal  judgment,  in  the  end  he  was  the 
mouthpiece  and  the  tool  of  an  omnipotent  system, 
rooted  far  more  deeply  in  the  national  consciousness 
than  courts  or  armies.  If  a  self-sufficient  Germany, 
failing  to  Germanize  its  own  Poles,  Alsatians,  or 
Danes,  was  to  set  forth  on  the  quixotic  adventure  of 
Germanizing  the  world,  and  if,  as  was  boldly  stated, 
nothing  was  to  be  done  in  Europe  without  her  assent, 
the  rest  of  Europe  solemnly  engaged  itself  to  leave  the 
German  bureaucrats  isolated  in  their  dream  castles. 
Pretty  much  everything  was  done  without  either  the 
knowledge  of  the  German  peoples,  or  even  the  knowl- 
edge of  the  peoples  boasting  themselves  democratic 
and  free,  Russia  as  yet  was  merely  an  excrescence, 
calling  wide-spread  attention  to  the  fact  that  a  three- 
fold league  of  two  democracies  and  a  decaying,  morti- 
fying orientalism  was  far  from  normal.  The  sub- 
stantive political,  territorial,  and  commercial  arrange- 
ments of  the  understanding  were  what  we  now  know. 
Russia  was  to  have  her  front  door  opened  through  the 
Straits,  to  have  a  "sphere"  in  Persia  and  cease  from 
troubling  the  British  Indian  frontier:  Great  Britain 
was  to  be  unmolested  in  Egypt  and  her  other  African 
spheres ;  France  in  western  and  northwestern  Africa— 
i.  e.,  along  with  Tunis  and  Algiers,  in  Morocco,  pro- 


4o6 


ORIGINS  OF  THE  WAR: 


vided  a  weak  little  Spain  should  hold  the  strip  of  shore 
opposite  Gibraltar  and  not  menace  British  control  of 
the  water  highway.  France  was  thus  to  maintain 
her  ascendancy  in  the  western  Mediterranean,  Italy 
was  to  get  Tripoli  and  the  transverse  traffic  of  the 
Adriatic  with  a  hold  in  the  Balkans,  Turkey  was  to 
be  totally  dismembered.  The  Balkan  states,  half  or 
wholly  Slav,  under  Russian  tutelage,  would  attend  to 
Turkey's  European  possessions,  the  Arabs  and  Ar- 
menians would  resume  sway  in  Asia,  with  the  segis  of 
both  Great  Britain  and  France  thrown  over  them. 
In  such  arrangements  one  of  the  five  strongest  powers 
was  to  have  no  share !  Here  were  considerations 
which  a  conservative  estimate  of  the  day  declared  to 
involve  about  one  billion  dollars  of  trade — something 
worth  fighting  for,  the  British  navalists  frankly  de- 
clared; which  involved  also  a  total  upset  of  existing 
preponderance  of  power,  which  threw  the  question 
of  nationalism  into  the  melting  pot,  and  jeopardized 
the  proud  ascendance  of  British  empire.  German 
armaments  could  mean  nothing  short  of  a  struggle  to 
the  finish  for  naval  supremacy  on  the  high  seas  and 
the  domination  of  continental  lands  as  well.  A 
mighty  fear  swept  over  the  populations  of  western 
Europe  and  in  such  a  storm  the  refuge  of  secret 
diplomacy  with  unquestioning  obedience  to  its  be- 
hests created  what  was  little  short  of  hysteria  in  every 
land;  except  America  which,  true  to  its  traditions, 
exhibited  a  calm  indifference,  secure  in  its  isolation 
across  three  thousand  miles  of  ocean. 

We  cannot  repeat  too  often  that  the  responsibility 
of  that  state  or  nation  by  which  the  outbreak  of 
hostilities  is  precipitated  is  immeasurable :  but  further 
we  are  bound  also  to  remember  that  such  a  responsi- 
bility may  be  morally  approved  as  well  as  reprobated  ? 
The  moral  sense  of  the  twentieth  century  holds  neither 
person  nor  state  to  be  a  criminal  because  one  or  other 


PRIMARY  NEGOTIATIONS  407 


begins  a  war.  It  does  hold  both  to  be  criminal  if  the 
start,  the  method,  and  the  conduct  of  belligerency  be 
criminal.  The  world  at  large  is  wildly  curious  but 
impotent  to  fix  the  blame  from  the  start.  To  fix 
the  blame  on  another  has  been  the  occupation  of  every 
government  and  so  continues  to  be,  inasmuch  as  at 
the  peace  congress  decisions  have  been  reached  largely 
on  that  basis:  who  began  the  war,  how  has  each  bel- 
ligerent perverted  international  law,  "modified"  is 
their  term,  for  its  own  advantage,  and  what  is  the 
state  of  each  party  from  the  military  standpoint  ? 
With  this  in  this  connection  we  have  nothing  to  do 
except  to  be  on  our  guard  against  the  specious  pres- 
entation by  each  party  of  its  own  case.  Had  we  a 
great,  dispassionate  judge  to  sift  the  whole  mass  of 
evidence  and  compel  the  production  of  secret  agree- 
ments, laying  plain  facts  before  the  jury  of  public 
opinion  in  the  order  of  time,  we  might  hope  to  know 
who  was  the  criminal  aggressor,  and  it  would  be  the 
most  solid  satisfaction  to  find  our  prejudices  justified. 
But  as  yet  there  is  no  such  judge:  and  the  jury — 
divided  between  the  belligerents — is  sadly  warped. 
But  from  what  we  at  least  seem  to  know  Russia  and 
Germany  were  dismayed,  each  and  both,  at  the  pros- 
pect of  losing  predominance  in  the  Balkans  and  had 
it  been  possible  to  isolate  them  for  the  settlement  of 
their  differences  by  arms,  one  or  other  would  have 
had  Europe  for  another  forty  years.  But  there  were 
the  backers  of  Russia.  Great  Britain  was  quite  as 
much  interested  as  either  of  the  principals  in  regain- 
ing control  of  that  invaluable  land  highway  across 
the  Balkans  and  Asia  Minor  which  Salisbury  had 
virtually  handed  over  to  the  Prussian  autocracy. 
France  after  Delcasse's  humiliating  dismissal,  once 
more  fretting  under  Germany's  menace,  grew  anxious 
about  her  position  in  Morocco,  and  saw  that  her  very 
existence  would  be  threatened  should  war  break  out 


4o8  ORIGINS  OF  THE  WAR: 


before  she  could  prepare  her  armies,  fleets,  and  muni- 
tions factories.  Her  internal  poHtics  were  shameful, 
her  foreign  relations  outwardly  fair,  though  in  the 
case  of  Spain  not  entirely  sound. 

With  no  fear  of  contradiction  we  may  assert  that 
in  the  light  of  history  and  present  knowledge  the 
cause,  the  outstanding  cause,  of  the  war  was  the  ques- 
tion of  Russo- British  or  German  control  in  south- 
eastern Europe  and  Asia  Minor.  There  were  plenty 
of  contributing  causes.  Western,  industrial  Germany 
believed  itself  the  victim  of  commercial  tyranny  be- 
cause its  wares  had  to  pay  tolls,  however  light,  for 
crossing  the  Low  Countries,  and  schemed  for  free  tran- 
sit and  a  free  port  on  the  North  Sea.  This  Great 
Britain  considered  "pointing  a  pistol  at  her  face." 
The  five-power  guarantee  of  Belgian  neutrality  was 
one  of  her  greatest  commercial  assets  and  she  never 
relaxed  for  one  instant  in  her  concern  for  its  mainte- 
nance. If  the  violation  of  that  neutrality  by  Germany 
was  a  crime,  as  it  was,  before  the  moral  sense  of  all 
civilization,  to  use  the  violation  as  a  plea  for  enter- 
ing the  war  was  for  England  to  secure  a  high  moral 
pretext  for  a  struggle  to  keep  material  benefit.  At 
the  eastern  end  was  where  the  train  was  to  be  laid  and 
the  match  applied.  The  Treaty  of  Berlin  was  de- 
crepit as  early  as  1898  and  moribund  when  the 
Turkish  Revolution  occurred  which  overthrew  Abdul 
Hamid,  a  revolution  almost  certainly  financed  by 
Russia.  When  the  young  Turks,  resting  on  the  letter 
of  the  Treaty  of  Berlin,  invited  Bosnia-Herzegovina  to 
elect  delegates  to  a  constituent  assembly  of  the 
Turkish  empire,  ignoring  the  fact  by  emphasis  on  the 
letter,  who  could  have  imagined  the  result  ?  Austria- 
Hungary  formally  annexed  Bosnia-Herzegovina  while 
Germany  rattled  the  sabre  in  Russia's  face.  The 
"sour-kraut  and  sausage"  regimen  had  in  thirty 
years  regenerated  the  provinces  on  the  material  side, 


PRIMARY  NEGOTIATIONS  409 


while  bringing  great  prosperity  to  both  Vienna  and 
Buda-Pesth.  The  provinces  were  the  joint  posses- 
sion of  the  Dual  Monarchy,  belonging  to  neither 
branch.  But  Roman  CathoHc  Croatia  was  united 
to  Hungary  by  a  treaty  similar  to  that  which  bound 
Germans  and  Magyars.  It  chafed  under  the  cal- 
culated severity  of  Hungary  in  "  Magyarizing," 
leaned  toward  Austria  and  was  fairly  indifferent  to 
the  "Great  Servia"  agitation.  The  Servs  of  Servia 
are  Greek  Catholic;  so,  too,  are  the  peasantry  of 
Bosnia-Herzegovina,  Servs  and  Greek,  while  the  great 
proprietors  and  native  capitalists  are  fanatical  Mos- 
lems, Slavs  as  they  are.  These  all  are  styled  Jugo- 
slavs, as  are  those  of  Dalmatia,  ninety-five  per  cent 
of  its  population,  and  of  Montenegro;  and  Dalmatia, 
fearing  Italian  ambitions,  was  a  contented  province, 
not  of  Hungary,  but  of  Austria. 

The  aspirations  of  the  Servians  for  a  Servian  empire 
are  not  to  be  quenched.  When  they  found  King 
Alexander  and  Queen  Draga  to  be  Austrian  in  sym- 
pathy they  murdered  both  and  threw  the  queenly 
corpse  out  of  the  palace  window.  From  a  humble 
retirement  the  surviving  claimant  of  a  pro-Russian 
dynasty  was  called  to  wear  the  crown  at  Belgrade. 
Russian  favor  secured,  there  began  everywhere  in 
Servian-Austria  such  a  political  plotting  by  Servian 
agents  as  only  semi-barbarians  can  carry  on,  espe- 
cially in  Bosnia;  and  the  assassination  in  its  capital  of 
the  proud  Hapsburg  heir  with  his  consort — both  Slav 
in  feeling,  but  also  both  of  them  devout  Romanists, 
not  Greeks,  kindled  alike  in  Slav  and  German  lands 
the  awful  conflagration  not  yet  quenched.  It  appears 
to  have  been  the  formal  incorporation  of  the  two 
Balkan  provinces  by  Austria-Hungary  which  directly 
influenced  the  cruel  and  bloody  oligarchy,  ruling  at 
Constantinople  to  find  its  account  in  abandoning  the 
feeble  Russian  autocracy.    It  was  a  bitter  pill  to 


ORIGINS  OF  THE  WAR: 


swallow,  because  the  Hamidian  policy  being  worn  out 
and  discarded,  the  new  regime,  after  the  example  of 
their  nearest  national  neighbors,  were  busy  "national- 
izing," that  is  Turkifying,  all  the  heterogeneous  peo- 
ples, as  Prussia  was  Prussianizing  Poles,  and  Russia 
Russifying  Finns  and  Hungary  Magyarizing  Rou- 
manians. The  little  Balkan  states  thought  only  of 
self-preservation,  and  the  German  powers  having  anni- 
hilated Servia,  Bulgaria  joined  the  Central  Alliance, 
while  Roumania  temporized,  with  a  leaning  toward 
the  Allies;  and  Greece  also,  with  a  king  leaning 
toward  Germany  but  never  forgetting  a  coast  line 
at  the  mercy  of  Allied  fleets.  To  the  Belgian  situa- 
tion and  that  of  the  minor  Balkan  states  the  further 
contributory  cause  for  war  was  afforded  by  the 
mysterious  Italian  attitude,  much  clearer  now  than 
it  then  was,  and  even  yet  not  entirely  clear.  To  sat- 
isfy Italian  aspirations  the  government  was  forced 
to  consider  the  Irredentists,  the  Expansionists,  and 
the  commercial  industrial  interests.  Her  toying  with 
Germany  on  one  side,  and  with  the  Allies  on  the  other, 
with  an  eye  to  grappling  out  of  the  welter  advantages 
on  the  whole  Adriatic  littoral,  and  in  Tripoli  and  in 
the  far  Levant,  did  not  directly  contribute  to  initiat- 
ing the  war,  but  it  did  encourage  both  the  major 
parties  to  the  struggle. 

It  seems  self-evident,  therefore,  that  the  primary 
negotiations  for  peace  were  of  necessity  concerned 
with  compromising  the  conflicting  aims  which  each 
of  the  great  powers  had  at  the  outbreak  of  hostilities, 
and  that  these  compromises  have  taken  form  from  the 
situation  of  the  belligerents  by  sea  and  by  land  when 
negotiations  began.  From  the  outset  there  has 
been  tall  talk  among  official  circles.  With  the  pass- 
age of  the  months  and  years,  suggestions  have  been 
thrown  out  from  time  to  time,  each  a  little  less  cloudy 
than  the  last.    Germany  made  the  declaration  of  war 


PRIMARY  NEGOTIATIONS  411 


a  necessity  alike  for  our  self-respect  and  for  our  self- 
defense  against  its  machinations,  both  within  our  own 
lands  and  in  foreign  parts.  We  disclaim  any  purpose 
of  material  gain.  So  did  revolutionized  Russia  before 
it  became  criminally  insane.  We  assert  that  we 
were  fighting  for  ideals,  but  have  not  even  in  the 
peace  terms  defined  the  substantive  proofs  which 
would  signalize  the  triumph  of  these  ideals.  To  make 
democracy  safe,  what  specific  readjustment  of  the 
status  quo  ante  have  we  secured  ?  Such  questionings 
will  not  down  and  it  is  high  time  we  were  talking  con- 
cretely. We  must  be  willing  to  deal,  if  strife  is  to  end, 
only  with  popular  representatives.  What  Europe 
wants  is  quite  different  from  what  American  democ- 
racy wants:  we  want  disarmament  and  a  league  to 
enforce  peace,  we  want  colonial  governments  to  be 
autonomous,  and  we  want  no  more  war  loans;  each 
generation  is  to  pay  its  own  charges  for  its  own  war- 
fare. Not  any  of  these  aims  and  ideals  have  been  se- 
cured. We  want  the  rights  of  nationality,  great 
and  small,  to  be  sacred ;  we  want  liberty  on  the  high 
seas,  we  want  a  fair  share  in  world  markets  among 
countries  still  evolving  their  political  identity  and 
economic  independence.  The  settlement  of  these 
remains  imperfect  and  far  from  secure.  But  what  do 
we  still  want  as  regards  the  new  map  of  Europe  and 
the  world  ?  Until  that  map  is  either  more  completely 
reconstructed  or  left  as  it  now  is  by  the  general  agree- 
ment of  those  nearest  concerned,  not  a  single  forward 
step  can  be  taken  in  other  matters.  Should  Great 
Britain  keep  Mesopotamia  to  guarantee  her  cotton 
supply,  control  the  Suez  Canal  as  she  has  so  far  done, 
and  as  we  maintain  supremacy  in  Panama,  with  the 
Bosphorus  open  to  all  the  world,  can  there  be  any 
permanent  contentment  among  the  rival  great  powers, 
demanding  economic  equality?  The  cause  of  the 
war  was  the  Balkans,  the  contributing  causes  have 


412  ORIGINS  OF  THE  WAR 


been  enumerated.  It  is  a  categorical  imperative  that 
we  persist  in  the  later  adjustment  of  our  terms  about 
the  settlement  of  the  map.  Each  of  the  allied  com- 
missions, one  after  another,  in  191 8,  confessed  the 
struggle  lost  unless  we  should  come  to  their  aid. 
We  have  done  so,  and  yet  a  conflict  of  interests  is 
declared:  as  of  old  nothing  but  a  compromise  of  im- 
perial and  economic  interests  has  been  secured.  We 
alone  assert  disinterestedness  now.  Must  we  in 
consequence  police  a  reconstructed  Asia,  until  Italy 
is  seated  in  Smyrna,  France  in  Syria,  and  Great 
Britain  in  Mesopotamia?  Is  it  our  affair  to  prolong 
warfare  by  policing  Russia  also?  No  sooner  had 
foreign  commissions  returned  to  their  respective  coun- 
tries with  assurances  that  we  were  coming  millions 
strong,  than  as  much  as  this,  if  not  exactly  in  these 
words,  began  to  be  hinted  from  the  highest  quarters 
in  the  respective  capitals  or  from  the  respective  pre- 
miers of  the  Allies.  We  have  now  reasoned  to- 
gether, and  reached  decisions,  which  if  ultimate, 
mean  larger  armaments  than  ever,  a  super-state  either 
impotent  or  tyrannical,  greater  burdens  of  taxation, 
and  suspicious  distrust  among  all  the  nations. 


VI 


HISTORY  AND  GEOGRAPHY  IN  THE  NINETEENTH 
CENTURY 

THE  GENERAL  ASSOCIATION  OF  NATIONS  AS  AN  INFLUENCE  BY  SEA,  AND 

BY  LAND  FAILURES  OF  THE  BERLIN  CONGRESS  OF  1878.     CHANGE  OF 

BRITISH    POLICY — PEACE   CONGRESSES   AND   THE   MAP   OF  EUROPE  

ENUMERATION  OF  PEACE  CONGRESSES  SINCE  I815 — THEIR  CONSERVA- 
TIVE ATTITUDE — THE  RECENT  CONFERENCE  AND  THE  MAP — FIRST 
PRIMARY  CONSIDERATION  BELGIUM  AND  ALSACE — THE  SETTLEMENT  OF 

A  NEW  "public  right"  "REPARATION,  RESTITUTION,  GUARANTEES" 

— THE  QUESTION  OF  COLONIES — THE  ECONOMIC  QUESTION — THE  BAL- 
KAN QUESTION  THE  ENFORCEMENT  OF  THE  CONCLUSIONS  REACHED 

BY  CONFERENCE  MINIMUM  TERMS  OF  PEACE — PUBLIC  OPINION  AND 

TERMS  OF  PEACE. 

At  the  very  end  of  the  sixteenth  century,  the  "  Grand 
Design"  of  Queen  Elizabeth  for  a  general  association 
of  nations  was  the  basis  of  a  tripartite  treaty,  to  which 
the  United  Provinces,  Henry  IV  of  France,  and  Eng- 
land were  parties.  This  "Grand  Design"  was  never 
pushed,  but  likewise  it  was  never  forgotten:  the  idea 
was  a  norm  of  reference  alike  in  theory  and  in  prac- 
tice for  two  hundred  years:  and  the  Holy  Alliance  of 
Russia,  Prussia,  and  Austria  at  the  close  of  the  Na- 
poleonic epoch  was  an  effort  to  realize  it.  Our  ad- 
ministration, at  intervals  shrewdly  chosen  through- 
out 191 7,  began  and  continued  proposing  "a  universal 
association  of  nations  to  maintain  inviolate  the  se- 
curity of  the  highway  of  the  seas  for  the  common, 
unhindered  use  of  all  the  nations  of  the  world."  Si- 
multaneously it  was  promoting  the  idea  of  a  single 
league  to  enforce  peace  when  made.  Whereas  there 
were  two  leagues  then  fighting  to  make  a  peace,  each 
as  they  severally  desired,  a  German  peace  or  a  British 
peace,  one  or  other  of  which  was  to  be  enforced,  when 
made,  hereafter  there  is  to  be  only  one.    After  cen- 

415 


414        HISTORY  AND  GEOGRAPHY 


turies  of  international  struggle  in  both  peace  and  war, 
the  high  seas  are  and  for  some  time  have  been  free  in 
peace;  in  war  the  doctrines  of  contraband  and 
blockade  have  been  so  enlarged  in  the  interest  of  the 
naval  powers  that  neutrals,  though  they  may  assert 
their  rights  from  the  housetop,  cannot  maintain  them 
by  the  mere  moral  sanction  of  neutrality.  The  bel- 
ligerent strongest  at  sea,  either  over  the  waters,  on  the 
waters,  or  under  the  waters,  may  work  its  will  without 
restraint.  On  land  the  military  power  of  the  belliger- 
ent exercises  a  similar  compulsive  power  over  a  con- 
tiguous neutral,  and  the  neutral  must  either  yield 
or  cease  to  be  neutral.  An  armed  neutrality  is  almost 
a  contradiction  in  terms  to-day  because  natural  science 
has  so  increased  the  numbers  and  efficiency  of  lethal 
weapons,  has  elaborated  them  to  such  a  degree  that 
the  only  means  of  defense  for  nations,  at  least  the 
cheapest  means  of  defense,  has  now  become  an  armed 
offense.  The  defensive  is  no  longer  the  stronger, 
morally  or  physically;  attack  and  repulse,  gain  or 
loss,  however  infinitesimal  each  may  be,  can  alone 
maintain  a  military  line. 

There  is,  therefore,  already  in  existence  as  we  re- 
marked earlier  in  this  discussion,  the  universal  associa- 
tion of  nations;  and  there  has  been  since  the  Con- 
gress of  Vienna  and  the  formation  of  the  Holy  Alli- 
ance. The  disintegration  of  the  treaty  and  the 
league  made  there  destroyed  neither,  because  at 
every  stage  there  was  a  substitution,  and  the  Con- 
gress of  Berlin  was  what  we  now  consider  a  con- 
spiracy of  almost  identical  type  with  the  conspiracy  at 
Vienna  sixty  years  earlier.  The  guilt  of  the  former 
was,  however,  far  less  than  that  of  the  latter,  because 
as  Balfour  stated  in  his  plea  to  the  American  people 
for  the  expulsion  of  Turkey  from  Europe  "circum- 
stances had  entirely  changed."  What  he  meant  was 
that  British  policy  had  entirely  changed.    What  the 


IN  THE  NINETEENTH  CENTURY  415 


men  at  the  green  table  in  1878  at  Berlin  knew  was  that 
the  peoples  and  nations  had  entirely  changed  while 
they  themselves  were  behaving  exactly  as  their  pred- 
ecessors had  behaved,  disposing  of  populations  regard- 
less of  their  consent,  and  drawing  territorial  bound- 
aries according  to  the  aspirations  of  the  ruling  class. 
Beaconsfield  was  the  facile  tool  of  Bismarck  and  Lon- 
don illuminated  to  celebrate  his  "peace  with  honor," 
totally  ignorant  of  the  nefarious  and  secret  plottings 
to  which  he  had  been  a  party  in  order  to  secure  glory 
for  his  ministry.  The  Turkey  so  carefully  restored 
from  Russian  aggression  in  1878  was  the  same  cruel, 
ruthless,  frightful  power  which  it  is  to-day.  With  the 
danger  of  Russian  advance  toward  India  removed, 
that  national  ogre  is  no  longer  necessary  to  the  con- 
servation of  British  interests  in  Egypt.  This  very 
striking  illustration  of  chess-board  politics  together 
with  the  talk  of  premiers  and  foreign  ministers  in 
London,  Paris,  and  Rome,  early  aroused  speculation 
in  America  as  to  whether  there  would  eventually  be 
any  more  connection  between  pieces  and  players  than 
there  was  at  Vienna  or  Berlin,  unless  America,  the 
one  disinterested  party,  should  appear  at  the  confer- 
ence with  a  preconcerted  plan  and  speak  the  word  of 
power;  as  it  could  earlier  have  done. 

It  is  a  very  curious  and  disturbing,  but  universal, 
experience  that  high  moral  professions  and  glittering 
philosophical  generalities,  so  alluring,  so  elevating, 
so  purifying  to  the  soul,  are  the  panoply  of  statesman- 
ship. This  mystical  elevation  of  soul  is  fine,  but  when 
the  sword  whistles  and  falls,  its  object  is  sordid  ad- 
vantage for  self,  and  land,  and  national  commerce. 
Let  us  accept,  however  ruefully,  what  is  the  fact, 
namely,  that  we  are  led  on  by  such  bubbles  and  iri- 
descences, of  our  own  and  others'  blowing.  At  the 
worst  these  visions  will  help  us  to  make  a  better  map 
than  we  could  have  made  without  them.    But  if  there 


4i6        HISTORY  AND  GEOGRAPHY 


be  any  slightest  guidance  for  the  future  in  the  experi- 
ence of  the  past,  the  map  expressing  popular  aspira- 
tions must  and  will  eventually  be  made.  On  what 
principles  it  is  for  us  to  decide.  The  cry  of  no  annexa- 
tions and  no  indemnities  found  the  Germans  en- 
thusiastic after  defeat,  and  the  Allies  opposed.  We 
had  suffered  our  administration  without  rebuke  to 
phrase  it  "peace  without  victory;"  it  means  the  same 
thing,  a  peace  based  not  on  the  principle  of  uti 
possidetis  but  on  the  status  quo  ante.  Nothing  but 
a  military  stalemate  could  possibly  produce  such  a 
peace,  and  it  would,  if  made,  have  had  no  durability 
whatever.  Again  the  map:  for  a  change  in  border 
lines  there  was  and  again  will  be,  whether  there  be  in- 
demnities or  not,  and  whether  or  not  the  changes  do 
or  do  not  amount  to  annexations. 

Throughout  the  nineteenth  century  there  were  five 
powers  recognized  as  great,  until  the  union  of  Italy 
into  a  single  state  added  a  sixth.  Either  by  recip- 
rocal agreement  or  for  purposes  of  convenience, 
or  because  they  humbly  asked  the  favor,  certain  of 
the  minor  powers  were  associated  with  the  occasional 
deliberations.  At  the  so-called  congresses  or  con- 
ferences they  were  variously  represented,  frequently 
one  or  more  were  not  represented  at  all.  Every  con- 
ceivable type  of  irregularity  in  their  transaction  of 
business  can  be  discerned.  At  the  most  important 
of  all  there  was  not  a  single  general  assembly  of  the 
members;  and  the  urgent  business  was  settled  in  the 
corridors  and  window-embrasures  by  the  plenipoten- 
tiaries of  the  powers  most  closely  concerned  in  that 
particular  affair.  The  great  of  the  earth  in  full  gala 
were  in  the  city,  which  was  the  main  object,  and  little 
or  large  committees  could  be  got  together  for  any 
imperative  occasion.  It  was  said  of  the  congress  that 
it  danced  but  did  not  walk — so  entirely  social,  out- 
wardly at  least,  was  its  character.    One  man,  Gentz, 


IN  THE  NINETEENTH  CENTURY  417 


a  lieutenant  of  Metternich,  drew  up  every  one  of  the 
many  treaties  between  different  contracting  parties. 

How  many  meetings  of  diplomats  might  be  dignified 
with  the  style  of  peace  congress  is  very  hard  to  de- 
termine; probably  only  three,  that  of  Vienna  from 
September,  18 14,  to  June,  1815;  the  London  Con- 
ference of  1830-31 ;  and  the  congress  of  Berlin  in  1878. 
All  the  others  were  ancillary,  either  prefatory  or  sup- 
plementary. For  instance,  the  respective  congresses 
of  Aix-la-Chapelle,  1818,  of  Carlsbad,  1819,  of  Trop- 
pau,  1820,  of  Laybach,  1821,  and  of  Verona,  1822, 
were  one  and  all  meetings  to  determine  how  and  by 
whom  the  frequent  liberal  uprisings  in  various  parts 
of  Europe  were  to  be  subdued.  By  their  timid  half- 
measures  the  Metternich  doctrine  of  intervention  was 
totally  and  finally  reduced  to  an  absurdity,  because 
in  one  place  there  was  intervention  to  uphold  despo- 
tism, in  another  to  establish  a  liberal  government. 
Poor  mystical  Alexander,  the  Czar,  grew  so  confused 
and  impatient  that  he  saw  his  prestige  destroyed, 
felt  his  dignity  wounded,  and  finally  died  of  a  broken 
heart.  The  Metternich  system  of  interventions  thor- 
oughly discredited  itself,  becoming  a  horror  and  a  by- 
word. The  London  Conference  was  composed  of  the 
great  powers  only;  it  ended  the  hostilities  between  the 
Catholic  and  Protestant  Netherlands,  setting  up  the 
new  kingdom  of  Belgium.  In  other  words,  it  recti- 
fied the  map  drawn  at  Vienna  not  in  the  interest  of 
race,  but  of  confession,  which  was  a  necessary  anach- 
ronism. It  busied  itself  with  only  one  small  part 
of  Europe,  but  that  was  the  nerve  centre  and  it  was 
a  European  congress.  Again  at  London,  in  1852,  five 
great  powers  guaranteed  the  integrity  of  Denmark; 
but  their  guarantee  proved  a  "scrap  of  paper"  when 
Russia  called  on  Great  Britain  to  help  enforce  it. 
To  that  dishonorable  crawl  may  be  traced  the  origins 
of  all  our  present  troubles.    Again  the  map  of  Europe 


4i8        HISTORY  AND  GEOGRAPHY 


was  changed.  At  Paris,  in  1856,  the  great  powers  as- 
sembled once  more  to  settle  the  accounts  of  the 
Crimean  War  and  strike  its  balance.  Principles  of 
international  law,  now  relegated  to  the  scrap-heap, 
were  enunciated,  but  still  once  more  the  map  of 
Europe  was  changed.  In  1867  there  was  a  conference 
at  London  which  recognized  Italy  as  a  sixth  great 
power  and  in  1878  at  Berlin  she  also  was  one  of  Bis- 
marck's servile  tools.  This  time  not  only  was  the 
map  of  Europe  changed,  but  that  of  non-European 
lands  in  hither  and  further  East. 

Further  consideration  should,  if  space  and  time 
allowed,  be  given  to  these  meetings  not  of  popular, 
but  of  dynastic  or  governmental,  representatives  with 
a  view  to  several  points:  the  evasion  of  every  liberal 
Napoleonic  doctrine,  the  indifference  to  popular  will, 
the  contempt  for  territorial  limits,  the  uneasiness 
about  nationality,  the  extinction  of  all  democratic 
aspiration.  The  one  outstanding  fact  in  every  as- 
semblage of  emperors,  kings,  princes,  and  plenipo- 
tentiaries was  their  constructive  work  on  the  map  of 
Europe  and  the  eastern  hemisphere.  About  the 
god  Terminus  all  rites  and  ceremonies  were  per- 
formed; they  were  boundary  festivals  like  the  Ter- 
minalia  of  the  Romans,  except  that  they  were  cele- 
brated not  in  the  open,  but  within  closed  doors,  with 
whisperings  behind  curtains  and  screens.  As  the 
Allies  at  Vienna  stood  unanimously  and  fiercely  for 
the  old  order  so  too  did  the  powers  at  Berlin. 

Substantially  every  national  aspiration  of  the  world 
had  unofficial  representatives  in  both  places,  but  they 
were  not  even  fed  on  the  cold  shoulder  of  promises  or 
the  husks  of  procrastination;  they  were  either  shut 
out  or  ignored.  Map-making  was  the  game  of  those 
who  were  still  clothed  in  the  majesty  of  naval  and 
military  power,  wherewithal  to  enforce  the  com- 
promises they  had  secretly  devised  before  assembling, 


IN  THE  NINETEENTH  CENTURY  419 


exactly  as  Great  Britain  had  secured  Cyprus  from 
Turkey  before  the  powers,  yet  to  be  convened  at  Ber- 
lin, could  put  either  the  stamp  of  approval  or  dis- 
approval on  her  procedure.  Indeed,  if  we  study  1815 
and  1878  comparatively,  we  shall  find  no  advance 
whatever  in  system  or  principle  and  discern  the  cen- 
tral purpose  to  be  identical;  to  settle  boundaries 
without  regard  to  populations  or  nationalities,  peo- 
ples or  tongues.  When  the  French  premier  (Ribot) 
declared  (July  11,  1917):  we  shall  take  Alsace  as  a 
right,  admitting  no  plebiscite  or  expression  of  its 
inhabitants'  will,  it  began  to  look  as  if  the  Conference 
of  1919  would,  as  it  has  done,  exhibit  the  same  old 
temper.  There  has  never  been  one  instant  when  the 
Balkan  states  had  any  slightest  degree  of  self-deter- 
mination; they  have  been  intimidated  or  encouraged 
solely  within  the  desires  of  the  great  powers ;  and  the 
London  Conferences  of  19 14  to  settle  their  differences 
exhibited  no  slightest  concern  for  their  desires, 
biased  or  otherwise.  The  consent  of  the  governed 
and  the  determination  of  all  affairs,  internal  and 
international,  by  popular  sovereignty,  seem  principles 
no  nearer  of  realization  than  sixty  years  ago. 

Let  us,  therefore,  not  deceive  ourselves;  the  first 
business  of  the  Peace  Conference,  under  whatever 
circumstances  it  might  meet,  had  necessarily  to  be  the 
business  of  all  such  conferences,  that  of  rectifying  the 
map,  both  of  Europe  and,  perhaps,  of  two  continents 
east  and  west,  certainly  of  the  eastern.  This  was 
to  be  done,  as  we  fondly  hoped,  in  such  a  way,  said 
President  Wilson  in  April,  191 7,  as  to  "compose  many 
of  the  questions  which  have  hitherto  seemed  to  require 
the  arming  of  the  nations"  so  that  "in  some  ordered 
and  just  way  the  peace  of  the  world  may  be  maintained 
by  such  cooperation  of  force  among  the  great  nations 
as  may  be  necessary  to  maintain  peace  and  freedom 
throughout  the  world."    "There  is  no  entangling 


420        HISTORY  AND  GEOGRAPHY 


alliance  in  a  concert  of  power."  "A  steadfast  con- 
cert for  peace  can  never  be  maintained  except  by  a 
partnership  of  democratic  nations  ...  a  league  of 
honor."  These  were  brave  words,  commanding  whole- 
hearted, universal  assent  among  the  American  peo- 
ple; assent  to  control,  to  taxation,  to  conscription, 
to  war,  as  never  before  in  the  history  of  our  own  or 
any  other  democracy.  Like  other  nations  we  claim 
our  beliefs,  customs,  and  politics  to  be  the  best  and 
like  other  nations  we  are  prompted  to  force  this 
civilization  on  the  world.  Only  by  a  league  of 
democratic  nations  can  the  things  "nearest  our 
hearts"  find  a  world-wide  guarantee.  We  are  fight- 
ing for  "democracy,  for  the  right  of  those  who  sub- 
mit to  authority  to  have  a  voice  in  their  own  govern- 
ment, for  the  rights  and  liberties  of  small  nations, 
for  a  universal  dominion  of  right."  Have  they  a 
right  to  grow  large  ? 

When  we  took  our  seat  at  the  council  table,  after 
the  "democratic  nations"  conquered  and  had  fought 
the  despot  nations  almost  to  a  dissolution,  what  de- 
limitations were  we  to  enforce  in  order  to  enlarge  and 
emancipate  democracy;  what  were  to  be  the  terri- 
torial aggrandizements  of  Great  Britain,  France, 
Belgium,  and  Italy  at  the  expense  of  Germany,  Aus- 
tro-Hungary,  Bulgaria,  and  Turkey?  In  Europe 
probably  none,  unless  Schleswig  should  be  returned 
to  Denmark,  Alsace-Lorraine  to  France,  Finland  to 
Sweden,  and  the  Italian  parts  of  the  Tyrol  with  those 
of  the  Dalmatian  littoral  should  be  assigned  to  Italy. 
Furthermore  should  we  extinguish  every  protect- 
orate over  the  chief  bone  of  contention,  the  Balkan 
highway  to  the  east  ?  Could  we  say  to  Great  Britain, 
Hands  off  !  while  to  the  wild,  half-civilized  inhabitants 
we  gave  full  license  as  we  have  done  to  Mexico,  to 
fight  it  out  among  themselves;  to  determine  their 
own  destinies,  as  the  phrase  now  in  vogue  runs.  Jus- 


IN  THE  NINETEENTH  CENTURY  421 


tice  demands  this.  To  have  handed  Balkan  affairs 
once  again  to  any  tribunal,  however  constituted  for 
the  settlement  of  details,  would  have  left  the  Balkan 
peoples  with  a  deep-seated  determination  to  prepare 
for  another  Balkan  war,  whereas  in  their  present  state 
of  disruption  and  exhaustion  they  will  eventually, 
if  left  to  themselves,  once  again  negotiate  a  federa- 
tion having  some  chance  of  enduring  for  a  genera- 
tion or  two. 

It  may  in  our  discussion  have  seemed  a  reversal  of 
the  natural  order  to  place  the  rehabilitation  of  Belgium 
together  with  the  restoration  of  northern  France  in 
the  second  place  of  importance,  but  intimately  asso- 
ciated with  both  was  the  fate  of  Alsace-Lorraine,  quite 
the  most  intricate,  as  it  at  first  appeared,  of  the  pri- 
mary matters  to  be  considered  by  the  Conference. 
What  position  was  America  to  take  with  reference  to 
it?  Our  people  and  their  statesmen  reiterated  that 
the  inhabitants  must  have  the  deciding  voice.  Not  so 
either  France  or  Germany,  for  the  French  feared  that 
a  popular  vote  would  by  a  small  majority  prove  ad- 
verse to  their  claim;  because  Alsace  with  a  part  of 
Lorraine,  at  least,  has  been  Germanized  by  coloniza- 
tion and  many  original  Alsatians  still  recall  the  abuses 
of  French  imperial  rule  which  were  parallel  to  those 
of  the  German  bureaucracy.  The  Germans  on  one 
hand  are  clamorous  for  the  retention  of  all  lands  even 
constructively  Germanic,  for  the  further  incorpora- 
tion of  such  as  lie  still  without  the  pale,  notably  the 
Baltic  provinces.  On  the  other  hand  they  scorn  the 
new  doctrine  of  the  rights  of  nations,  that  is,  the  right 
of  any  other  nationality  to  do  what  they  have  been 
doing,  the  right  to  integrate  under  one  government 
those  of  common  origin,  speech,  traditions,  and  in- 
stitutions and  hold  that  Alsace-Lorraine  is  a  part  of 
Germany  exactly  as  Savoy  is  a  part  of  France.  The 
French  demand  compensation  for  their  awful  sacri- 


422        HISTORY  AND  GEOGRAPHY 


fices:  Alsace-Lorraine  first,  undisputed  sway  in 
Roman  Africa  next,  with  a  protectorate  of  Syria  to 
safeguard  the  French  influences  emanating  from  many 
religious  establishments,  and,  to  assure  a  share  of 
Asiatic  markets,  a  place  in  the  Levant  such  as  they 
held  centuries  ago.  There  could  be  no  question  about 
Belgium  and  the  occupied  French  territory:  on  resti- 
tution we  must  of  course  insist.  What  were  we  to  do 
about  its  corollary,  the  reintegration  in  France  of 
Alsace-Lorraine.  Instinct  and  sympathy  would  de- 
mand it;  whether  justice  did  was  to  be  considered. 
Those  provinces  in  1870  were  indisputably  French, 
what  are  they  now  and  how  are  we  to  find  out? 
They  must  be  governed  by  their  own  consent,  the 
consent  of  the  majority. 

Great  Britain,  the  greatest,  overwhelmingly  the 
greatest  naval  power  of  the  globe,  entered  the  war 
with  the  grim  determination  to  do  what  she  had 
done  previously  on  several  occasions,  to  annihilate  a 
dangerous  sea-rival  and  seize  her  fleet,  to  secure 
both  land  and  sea  highways  to  the  east,  and  to  pre- 
serve the  invaluable  neutrality  of  Belgium,  the  high- 
way for  her  surplus  wares  into  the  heart  of  Europe. 
Of  Holland  she  was  reasonably  sure.  But  the  British 
democracy  demanded  an  ideal  wherewith  to  create 
enthusiasm  and  Mr.  Asquith  said:  we  are  fighting 
for  public  right.  How  was  this  to  be  enforced  ?  he 
was  asked.  By  reparation,  restitution,  and  guaran- 
tees, he  replied.  Of  these  terms,  as  of  "freedom  of 
the  seas"  and  "league  of  nations"  the  world  de- 
manded further  definition.  What  kind  of  reparation, 
restitution  of  what,  and  what  guarantees  ?  Public 
right  can  only  be  defined  in  one  way;  non-interven- 
tion in  the  affairs  of  existing  states,  great  and  small. 
This  in  modern  thinking  has  seemed  to  be  totally  dis- 
credited for  something  quite  the  reverse,  the  inter- 
vention of  one  state  in  the  affairs  of  another,  peace- 


IN  THE  NINETEENTH  CENTURY  423 


fully  penetrating;  or  even  to  the  extent  of  enforcing 
Cuban  sanitation,  mitigating  Turkish  tyranny,  con- 
trolling Dominican  finances,  and  so  forth.  With  the 
same  breath  we  are  talking  about  three  or  four  na- 
tions controlling  two  others  in  a  league.  Manifestly 
here  is  gross  inconsistency;  the  only  public  right 
surviving  is  that  of  moral  suasion,  which  is  not  at  all 
a  process  compatible  with  fighting  for  public  right. 
The  sanction  of  international  law  has  been  proved  in 
this  war  to  be  far  more  powerful  than  that  of  any 
municipal  law;  the  whole  modern  world  was  bleed- 
ing white  in  defense  of  it.  Expressed  differently  the 
moral  sense  of  the  west  has  been  outraged  by  the 
conduct  of  the  central  powers  of  Europe;  and  for  that 
moral  code  which  underlies  its  conduct  of  all  affairs,  ex- 
ternal and  internal,  it  has  been  destroying  its  own  for- 
tunes, mortgaging  those  of  posterity,  and  making  the 
greatest  adventure  in  the  destruction  of  human  life 
hitherto  planned.  Never  again  can  text-writers  of 
Austin's  school  deny  sanction  to  an  international  law 
which  corresponds  to  and  expresses  in  its  working 
the  general  human  sense  of  justice.  What  we  must 
recall  is  that  we  were  not  fighting  for  the  antiquated 
public  right  of  non-intervention :  we  were  fighting  for 
precisely  the  opposite,  the  right  to  intervene  for 
securing  liberty  and  justice. 

Now  about  the  three  other  "magnetic"  generali- 
ties: reparation,  restitution,  guarantees.  Guaranty 
is  either  an  affair  of  honor  or  of  collateral  security. 
We  assert  that  the  Germans  have  violated  every 
pledge  as  well  as  every  humane  provision  of  interna- 
tional law,  new  or  old,  on  the  world-old  plea  of  self- 
defense  ;  f or  "  reasons  of  state. ' '  Have  we  in  the  terms 
of  peace,  insisted  upon  collateral  security,  on  a  pawn 
or  pledge  for  good  behavior  ?  This  is  one  of  the  high 
lights;  of  the  very  primary  questions  which  should 
have  been  settled  at  once.    Neutralize  the  Balkans 


424        HISTORY  AND  GEOGRAPHY 

and  the  Straits:  let  Alsace-Lorraine  decide  its  own 
fate;  disarm  Germany  by  the  extinction  of  her  war 
fleet,  and  reduce  her  army  to  the  dimensions  of  a 
home-guard.  This  was,  most  correctly,  the  cold  logic 
of  the  guaranty.  Reparation  ?  There  was  first, 
when  the  Central  Powers  were  intoxicated  with  seem- 
ing victory,  tall  talk  about  extensive  annexations, 
enormous  money  indemnities,  vast  spheres  of  world 
control.  To  this  succeeded  a  programme  of  what 
they  thought  moderate  ideas,  minor  annexations  and, 
perhaps,  no  indemnities,  which  indicated  the  restora- 
tion of  Belgium  with  free  transit  for  German  commerce 
to  the  North  Sea  and  undisturbed  control  toward  the 
east  by  the  Balkans  and  Asia  Minor.  Toward  mid- 
summer, 1 91 7,  the  popular,  not  the  official,  demand 
was  for  peace  with  reconciliation,  which  sounds  like 
the  status  quo  ante;  neither  reparation  nor  restitution. 
If  a  beaten  foe  was  to  repair  and  restore,  we  had  to  be 
ready  with  a  definition  of  both  words  not  in  other 
generalities  but  in  hard,  concrete  realities.  Already 
we  were  justified  in  the  conviction  that  our  foe  was 
then  in  despair  of  overwhelming  victory  or  even  of 
victory  at  all.  We  asserted,  the  British  premier  as- 
serted, the  French  and  Italians  at  least  assented  to 
the  assertion,  that  we  did  not  contemplate  crushing 
our  foe.  What  must  she  restore?  If  she  got  the 
northern  duchies  by  force  was  she  to  restore  them? 
and  that  contrary  to  the  wish  of  an  overwhelming 
majority  of  their  peoples.  Was  she  to  go  back  still 
further  and  restore  both  German  Poland  and  Silesia, 
contrary  to  the  wish  of  a  majority  now  dwelling  on 
their  soil  ?  To  repair  the  damage  done  to  French  soil 
and  Belgium  is  measurably  possible;  that  we  have 
demanded  restoration  to  conditions  before  1870  is 
thinkable,  the  rest  is  ludicrously  impossible — with 
any  show  of  consistency.  If  a  greater  Poland  is  to 
be  set  up  with  all  its  old  ineptitudes  and  inefficiencies, 


IN  THE  NINETEENTH  CENTURY  425 


why  not  a  greater  Sweden,  and  a  greater  Denmark,  and 
a  greater  Servia,  and  so  on  through  the  whole  list  of 
political  dreams.  Reparation  and  restitution  would 
have  no  meaning  except  as  they  would  include  a  re- 
turn of  Danish  Schleswig  to  Denmark,  of  a  portion  of 
Lorraine  to  France  without  a  plebiscite,  or  of  the  whole 
of  both  Alsace  and  Lorraine  provided  a  plebiscite  de- 
mand it.  This  third  primary  concern  is  just  as  prickly 
and  thorny  as  any  other ;  yet  the  categorical  necessity 
was  on  us  to  have  a  definite  judgment. 

The  fourth  primary  concern  to  be  settled  by  the 
Peace  Conference  was  the  question  of  colonies,  and 
here  again  our  representatives  were  expected  to  pre- 
sent a  very  definite  decision.  During  the  progress  of 
the  war  every  German  colony  had  been  occupied  either 
by  Great  Britain  or  Japan.  What  about  restitution  to 
those  whose  claim  in  19 14  was  undisputed?  The 
frothy  demagogues  of  Germany  began  early  in  the 
conflict  to  bleat  about  the  occupation  of  both  French 
and  British  possessions  as  among  the  goals  of  the 
war:  about  Roman  Africa  in  particular.  This  aroused 
a  storm  of  bitter  hatred  in  both  the  great  colonial 
empires,  France  and  Great  Britain:  a  storm  which 
has  not  subsided  and  the  allied  belligerents  if  left  to 
themselves  would  surely  strip  Germany  of  all  her 
colonial  possessions.  This  would  be  quite  as  detri- 
mental to  our  interests  as  the  control  of  the  Straits 
by  any  single  power,  as  far  as  American  dealings  with 
Russia  are  concerned:  and  it  might  very  well  once 
again  open  the  flood-gates  of  German  migration  to 
our  shores.  There  was  a  time  when  our  historic 
continuity  was  not  menaced  by  German  settlers,  but 
that  day  is  over.  With  their  intense  consciousness 
of  race,  culture,  and  temperament  they  are  saturated 
with  Germandom,  a  system  and  an  attitude  of  mind 
antipodal  to  ours,  colliding  with  it  in  moments  of 
crisis,  awakening  a  tolerant  sympathy  even  among 


426        HISTORY  AND  GEOGRAPHY 


truly  American  Germans  as  distinguished  from  Ger- 
man Americans,  and  creating  a  degrading,  stifling 
atmosphere  of  distrust  ameng  fellow  citizens  with 
identical  interests  in  the  United  States.  We  called 
ourselves  disinterested  belligerents  and  so  we  were, 
provided  the  war  does  not  put  us  at  any  disadvantage 
greater  than  that  under  which  we  suffered  at  its  out- 
break. The  immigration  of  the  latest  years  has  been 
dangerous  enough,  a  sort  of  alluvial  human  mud 
which  enriches  the  soil  without  bringing  hard  pan  to 
the  surface,  but  also  impregnated  with  dormant  ma- 
laria, full  of  weed  seeds  and  anarchy  germs.  Results 
are  in  the  future,  but  when  nervous,  overstrained 
Germans  leave  their  native  shores  they  ought  to  go 
to  German  colonies  for  our  sakes  as  well  as  their  own. 
So  far  German  emigration  has  been  parasitic,  feeding 
on  other  established  civilizations  and  sorely  disturb- 
ing them.  There  was  truth  in  the  remark  that  the 
German  clerk  in  London  was  a  cause  of  the  war;  it 
is  even  truer  that  the  inordinate  zeal  of  the  secular 
German  missionary,  commercial  and  political,  has 
been  not  merely  a  crumpled  roseleaf  in  the  world's 
repose,  but  a  thorn  whose  perpetual  activity  has 
created  the  festering  sores  of  international  hate. 
What  the  peace  of  the  world  demands  is  a  vast  Ger- 
man Africa,  both  tropic  and  temperate,  perhaps  better 
still  a  German  Central  Asia,  within  whose  limits  the 
surplusage  of  German  life  may  find  rest,  while  be- 
tween them  and  the  mother  land  the  interchange  of 
relations  may  finally  stamp  their  boasted  efficiency 
for  what  it  is,  an  explosive  substitute  for  gentleness 
and  good  manners  in  national,  colonial,  and  per- 
sonal relations.    We  want  no  more  blending. 

Were  it  not  for  the  rock-fast  conviction  of  the 
American  people  that  whatever  the  cause  of  the  war 
it  had  been  transformed  from  a  struggle  for  economic 
supremacy  into  something  totally  different,  into  a 


IN  THE  NINETEENTH  CENTURY  427 


holy  war,  a  war  to  make  the  world  safe  for  democracy, 
a  war  of  intervention  against  autocratic  imperialism, 
our  interest  would  never  have  been  what  it  was.  We 
had  many  times  turned  the  other  check  to  both  Great 
Britain  and  Germany,  and  while  many  of  us  had  lost 
our  self-respect,  most  of  us  had  not:  when  our  ad- 
ministration finally  obeyed  the  popular  behest,  the 
self-respect  we  invoked  and  the  self-defense  we  claimed 
were  purely  the  respect  for,  the  defense  of,  ideals. 
Yet  there  was  and  is  an  economic  spectre  in  the  back- 
ground which  will  not  down.  It  sat  at  the  conference 
and  for  every  representative  it  took  identical  shape; 
the  internationalization  of  all  the  narrow  high  seas, 
especially  the  Straits,  the  Suez  Canal,  and  the  Panama 
Canal.  When  we  cast  economy  to  the  winds  and 
built  this  last  as  a  national  enterprise  to  bind  our  two 
coasts  more  closely,  we  were  rudely  reminded  that 
however  and  by  whomsoever  constructed,  once  built 
it  was  not  a  national,  but  an  international  highway 
and  that  we  had  no  privilege  in  the  matter  of  tolls 
for  our  coastwise  shipping.  Fierce  as  has  been  our 
commercial  life,  that  of  Europe  has  been  terrible. 
We  are  dollar-chasers,  they  are  shilling,  mark,  and 
franc  huntsmen.  The  far-reaching  consequences  of 
our  Isthmian  Canal  were  more  clearly  seen  over  there 
than  by  us.  Three  great  powers  refused  to  partici- 
pate in  our  Panama  celebration,  France  raved  about 
our  commercial  annexations,  and  during  the  early 
years  of  the  war,  all  the  allies  held  us  up  to  scorn  for 
a  "holier-than-thou"  phariseeism  masking  ease  and 
greed.  Later  still  they  called  for  our  money  and  our 
men:  but  coldly  said,  of  course  this  means  the  pro- 
longation of  the  war.  It  behooves  us  in  these  matters 
to  look  to  ourselves.  To  make  the  world  safe  for  de- 
mocracy does  not  mean  intervention  to  overthrow  des- 
potism in  central  Europe,  alone,  though  it  does  mean 
that.    It  ought  to  mean  securing  a  long  peace  by 


428        HISTORY  AND  GEOGRAPHY 


removing  economic  friction,  and  providing  for  read- 
justing from  time  to  time  the  economic  problems 
perpetually  arising.  International  commissions  be- 
tween democracies  can  later  settle  minor  details,  but 
the  great  principles  of  economic  peace  should  have  been 
fixed  at  the  Peace  Conference  which  was  to  end  war; 
and  we  must  be  prepared  to  contribute  the  interna- 
tionalizing, and  neutralizing,  of  our  Panama  Canal 
as  a  preliminary.  The  world  must  be  made  safe  for 
other  democracies  than  our  own.  Perpetual  warfare, 
military,  naval,  or  economic,  stifles  the  development 
of  democracy.    Economic  peace  underlies  political. 

For  the  other  primary  questions  we  must  return 
to  the  central,  vitalizing,  insistent  matter;  the  map, 
first  of  Europe,  then  of  the  world.  The  savage  rest- 
lessness of  the  Balkans  was  due  to  Servia's  exclusion 
from  the  Adriatic  in  her  proposed  expansion.  The 
phrase  "free  trade"  has  long  been  employed  in  a  very 
limited  sense.  Its  broader  sense  is  unhampered 
access  to  open  seas,  and  the  unhampered  use  of  inter- 
national rivers,  straits,  and  canals.  If  the  principle 
of  national  rights  is  to  prevail  then  every  ambitious 
nation,  large  or  small,  will  demand  abundant,  guar- 
anteed access  to  the  ice-free  water  highway  of  the 
globe.  The  jealous  Magyars  secured  a  port  by  Mag- 
yarizing  the  more  or  less  Croatian  and  Italian  city 
of  Fiume  at  the  head  of  the  Adriatic,  the  Austrians 
by  holding  the  other  more  or  less  Slovene  and  Italian 
city  of  Trieste.  Italy  demanded  both  as  well  as  all 
the  other  Istrian  and  Dalmatian  ports  of  the  eastern 
shore,  her  own  undisputed  western  shore  being  curi- 
ously destitute  of  protected  harbors.  Russia  has 
felt  her  development  impossible  without  a  free  out- 
let from  the  Black  Sea  to  the  Mediterranean.  Ger- 
many would  have  liked  to  make  the  Low  Countries 
states  of  the  empire  for  the  sake  of  adequate  access 
to  the  North  Sea.    The  Dual  Monarchy  wanted 


IN  THE  NINETEENTH  CENTURY  429 


Salonica,  and  each  Balkan  state  has  struggled  for  an 
enlarged  shore  line  on  the  Euxine  or  the  yEgean. 
What  a  novelty  must  be  the  map  of  Europe  which 
gratifies  these  several  longings  and  what  a  total 
revolution  in  public  law  there  will  be  when  Switzer- 
land secures  a  seaport  of  its  own.  Yet  there  have  been 
extraordinary  efforts  to  agitate  in  all  these  various 
senses  and  Switzerland  had  secured,  for  some  years 
had  enjoyed,  a  virtual  internationalization  of  the 
Gotthard  railway,  an  arrangement  so  advantageous 
to  both  her  neighbors,  Germany  and  Italy,  as  well  as 
to  herself,  that  it  proved  an  element  in  prolonging  the 
Triple  Alliance  until  all  the  world  wondered  at  Italy's 
procrastination  in  declaring  war  on  Germany  after 
she  had  assumed  the  offensive  against  Austro-Hun- 
gary.  If  there  is  to  be  a  new  world,  if  we  are  to  have 
a  long  peace,  based  on  the  opportunity  open  to  na- 
tionalities for  self-realization,  this  question  must,  as 
it  did,  insistently  enter  the  realm  of  practical  politics 
and  demand  arrangement  by  the  representatives  of 
the  powers  at  the  council  board. 

The  last  of  these  primary  questions  was,  of  course, 
that  of  enforcing  the  behests  of  the  council  both  by 
land  and  by  sea;  the  policing  of  the  federated  world. 
To  what  nations  was  it  to  be  entrusted  and  what 
share  was  each  to  have  in  it?  Where  was  the  high 
command  to  reside  and  what  was  to  be  its  extent? 
What  quota  was  each  of  the  nationalities  to  have  in 
the  active  force?  Where  was  the  international  tri- 
bunal to  sit  and  how  was  it  to  be  constituted  ?  What 
questions  may.be  referred  to  it  for  justiciable  settle- 
ment and  who  is  to  codify  the  laws  which  it  is  to  ad- 
minister? To  those  who  have  hitherto  thought  in 
terms  of  public  right  and  non-intervention  these  are 
revolutionary  ideas.  But  a  world  war  is  revolution- 
ary and  since  revolution  has  come  through  ambitions 
and  appetites  springing  logically  enough  from  the 


430        HISTORY  AND  GEOGRAPHY 


concepts  of  history  and  politics  prevalent  fifty  years 
ago,  there  is  no  alternative,  those  basic  concepts 
must  go.  To  formulate  the  substitutes,  to  draw  their 
logical  conclusions,  and  to  solidify  those  conclusions 
into  fact,  in  short  to  erect  the  new  machine  and  make 
it  work  was  surely  a  primary  duty,  we  might  almost 
say  a  preamble  to  all  the  rest  of  the  work.  As  so 
often  occurs  in  human  affairs,  there  is  a  reaction  and 
interaction  of  cause  and  effect  which  makes  those  af- 
fairs seem  not  merely  a  tangle,  but  a  reversal  in 
order  of  time  and  causation.  This  last  obligation  of 
the  Conference  was  really  the  first;  but  it  could  not  be 
put  there  until  reasoning  from  perfectly  obvious  con- 
siderations the  world  found  that  the  crisis  had  really 
come  when  beautiful  phrases  expressing  beautiful 
ideals  would  no  longer  suffice;  and  made  the  start- 
ling discovery  that  reality  demanded  settlements  in 
conflict  with  national  interests,  with  indurated  hab- 
its of  thought,  and  with  collective  interests  accus- 
tomed for  several  generations  to  use  the  state  as  a 
public  means  to  secure  private  advantage. 

In  midsummer  of  191 7  there  was  a  statement  of 
minimum  terms  of  peace,  apparently  a  semi-official 
feeler.  I.  Restoration  of  Belgium  and  the  ravaged 
lands,  towns,  cities  in  France;  with  an  indemnity 
sufficient  to  reconstruct  both  buildings  and  inaugurate 
fruitful  agriculture.  II.  No  annexations.  III. 
Guarantees  that  secret  alliances  could  never  again 
bring  on  a  world  war.  To  these  apparently  German 
opinion  was  not  averse.  Yet  the  insistent  questions 
of  the  map  and  the  guarantees  were  not  defined :  the 
practical,  actual  and  concrete,  it  was  immediately  seen, 
must  be  the  business  of  the  Conference.  America 
and  renovated  Russia,  strange  dualism  as  it  seemed, 
would  probably  be  the  moderators.  The  latter  has 
now  not  only  no  armies,  but  no  existence,  being  dis- 
solved into  her  elements;  to  enforce  the  positions  we 


IN  THE  NINETEENTH  CENTURY  431 


took  we  have  our  armies  and  fleets,  even  if  their 
participation  in  actual  fighting  has  been  considered 
slender  by  those  whose  cause  they  saved.  There 
they  stand,  ready  and  alert,  let  us  hope,  to  give  due 
weight  to  well-considered  plans  of  settlements.  If 
such  plans  be  stated  with  clarity,  their  very  clearness 
and  justice  will  carry  conviction,  but  the  armies  must 
be  in  the  field  and  the  fleets  on  two  oceans  ready  for 
action;  or  diplomacy  may  thwart  every  high  pur- 
pose. Or  else,  too,  economic  warfare,  boycotting 
and  elbowing,  may  go  on  with  little  restraint  and  per- 
petuate a  savage  rivalry  which  would  reopen  the 
unhealed  sores  within  a  very  short  time.  Yet  mini- 
mum terms  there  had  to  be  in  order  to  justify  the 
cessation  of  hostilities. 

What  these  may  finally  prove  to  be  when  the  broad 
principles  of  the  new  world  charter  are  reduced  to  a 
working  system,  is  in  the  womb  of  time,  but  there 
will  be  no  pregnancy  even  unless  popular  opinion  con- 
cerns itself  with  the  subject.  Our  general  mind  is 
chaotic  and  likely  to  remain  so.  Democracy  does  not 
preclude  leadership,  it  invites  it.  Our  leadership  is 
three-fold,  social,  political,  and  commercial:  in  that 
order  let  us  hope.  The  social  leadership  is  purely 
moral,  coming  from  the  press,  the  pulpit,  the  aca- 
demic chair,  and  the  family  circle.  In  each  and  all 
the  topic  of  establishing  the  peace  just  made  should 
be  intelligently  discussed  and  some  kind  of  policy 
formulated.  If  studied  and  stated  where  it  should  be 
it  will  finally  reach  the  public  ear.  The  professor  and 
jurist,  the  merchant  and  workman  must  be  heard, 
and  if  they  speak  well  they  will  be  heeded.  More 
important  is  political  leadership,  not  general,  but 
local.  The  administration  needs  every  assistance. 
So  admirable  has  been  its  latest  course  that  party 
lines  have  almost  disappeared  and  a  sort  of  wondering 
apathy  has  replaced  the  keen  criticism  there  ought  to 


432        HISTORY  AND  GEOGRAPHY 


be  in  state  legislatures  and  in  congress.  Perhaps  for 
the  actual  conduct  of  both  preparation  and  warfare 
this  is  well:  but  for  the  policy  to  be  pursued  in  es- 
tablishing peace  every  one  of  us  should  demand  an 
expression  of  opinion  from  his  or  her  representative. 
The  commercial  world  needs  no  stimulus;  every 
speculative  mind  is  busy  and  alert  for  what  is  to  come 
of  all  these  sacrifices.  But  as  yet  we,  the  people,  have 
heard  little  of  their  ideas.  There  has  been  talk  of 
economic  warfare,  of  restoring  our  commercial  marine, 
of  the  relative  proportion  between  loans  and  taxes 
in  raising  the  ways  and  means,  and  of  the  readjust- 
ment in  relations  between  the  strata  of  the  democracy. 
But  our  financiers  have  so  far  expressed  no  opinion  of 
general  acceptance  regarding  such  a  peace  as  will 
preserve  a  stable  equiHbrium  in  the  economic  units 
of  the  world.  We  need  to  hear  from  them.  The 
United  States  is  all  vocal  with  hymns  of  peace,  but 
there  are  no  recitatives  about  the  details  of  it.  About 
each  of  the  matters  we  have  just  been  considering 
there  can  be  and  must  be  not  only  the  expert  but  an 
inexpert,  everyday,  homely  opinion.  Otherwise  the 
tyranny  of  socialism  will  overwhelm  the  liberty  of 
democracy,  and  the  anarchist  will  behold  his  longed-for 
chaos;  the  cosmos  will  have  to  be  reordered  from  the 
beginning. 


VII 


THE  CONFLICT  OF  IDEALS  WITH  POSSIBLE  ATTAINMENT 

AN  ARMED  TRUCE  THE  FIRST  STEP  TOWARD  PEACE — WHAT  MUST  BE  DE- 
FERRED. INSTITUTIONAL  REFORMS — REGENERATION  OF  NATIONALITY, 
CULTURE,  AND  DEMOCRACY— POLAND,  BOHEMIA,  AND  JUGO-SLAVIA — 
UNRECONCILED  RACE-STOCKS — QUESTION  OF  ASIATIC  AND  AFRICAN 
NATIONALITIES — IS  THERE  A  "  RIGHT"  OF  NATIONALITY?  LANGUAGE 
QUESTION — THE  STRUGGLE  OF  "CULTURES" — UNSETTLED  CONCEPTIONS 
OF  DEMOCRACY— THE  SOCIALISTIC  STATE  NOW  AND  HEREAFTER — PRO- 
POSED REVOLUTION  IN  LIVING  CONDITIONS — OUR  IMMEDIATE  CONCERN 
IN  THE  PEACE  IS  TIME  TO  SETTLE  INTERNAL  AFFAIRS — PEACE  WITH 
HONOR  OR  DISHONOR.     FACTS  OF  ALLIANCE  STRONGER  THAN  DENIAL 

OF  ALLIANCE  THE  CASE  OF  THE  UKRAINE  ILLUSTRATES  OUR  POSSIBLE 

OBLIGATIONS — PEACE  WITH  HONOR  IMPOSSIBLE  WITHOUT  TIME  TO 
ARBITRATE  ALL  THESE  POIGNANT,  PERSISTENT  DEMANDS.  LIMITATIONS 
OF  THE  DOCTRINE  OF  INTERFERENCE  ESSENTIAL:  WILD  EUROPE  MUST 
PROBABLY  TRY  ALL  THE  PHASES  OF  HISTORIC  EXPERIENCE:  EMANCIPA- 
TION, DICTATORSHIP,  CONSTITUTIONAL  MONARCHY  AND  REPRESENTA- 
TIVE GOVERNMENT — THE  SUM  OF  THE  WHOLE  MATTER  IS  THAT  THE 
DOCTRINE  OF  PERPETUAL  PEACE  IS  AT  LAST  A  WORKING  HYPOTHESIS 
AND  THAT  THE  GAINS  OF  STRUGGLE,  HOWEVER  MEAGRE,  MUST  BE 
REGISTERED  IN  THE  PUBLIC  LAW. 

The  enumerated  objects  of  the  war  were  more  or  less 
closely  connected  with  the  origin  of  the  war,  and 
seemingly  should  have  demanded  immediate  atten- 
tion at  the  Peace  Conference.  But  much  blood  had 
been  shed  and  much  hard  thinking  done  since  1914. 
The  western  allies  at  the  outset  formally  declared: 

1.  France — that  she  was  fighting  for  self-preserva- 
tion, 

2.  Russia — to  protect  Servia, 

3.  Great  Britain — to  liberate  Belgium  and  assist 
France, 

4.  Italy — to  secure  the  Trentino  as  compensation 
for  the  annexation  of  Bosnia-Herzegovina  by  Austria- 
Hungary,  a  breach  of  the  Triple  Alliance  Treaty,  and 

5.  We,  the  United  States,  began  our  war  with 
Germany  to  uphold  international  law. 

433 


434         THE  CONFLICT  OF  IDEALS 


How  each  one  of  these  causes  of  war  broadened  out 
during  hostiHties  is  perfectly  manifest;  they  were  what 
were  designated  primary  considerations,  all  the  others 
were  secondary.  Some  of  the  secondary  ones  have, 
as  even  the  casual  newspaper  readers  know,  forged 
into  the  primary  rank  and  secured  precedence;  the 
new  league  of  nations,  the  new  map  of  Europe,  Bel- 
gium, Alsace,  colonies,  economic  peace,  the  liberation 
of  trade  routes,  and  in  particular  the  Balkan  question. 
Many  had  felt  confident  that  peace  could  be  made 
with  no  regard  to  these  cognate,  inseparable  matters ; 
but  they  were  disappointed.  What  kind  of  a  peace 
would  it  have  been  ?  Certainly  not  an  enduring  one, 
not  a  three-generation  peace  even.  Exhaustion  of 
time  and  patience  confined  negotiations  not  to  the 
ostensible  and  proclaimed  causes,  but  to  what  proved 
the  real  ones;  so  we  have  an  armed  truce,  and  a 
world  both  militarized  and  navalized,  the  same  old 
uneasy  world  of  bickering,  pushing  nations  and  states, 
of  governments  maintaining  their  home  power  of 
catering  to  the  material  prosperity  of  all  the  classes 
of  population  in  varying  degree,  chiefly  to  the  greater 
advantage  of  the  "haves"  and  the  lesser  good,  but 
still  good,  of  the  "have-nots."  For  such  a  peace  as 
we  had  desired  and  for  which  we  had  been  lavishing 
life  and  property  there  proved  no  possibility  of  quick 
settlement. 

Some  of  the  ideals  which  were  beneath  the  surface 
and  have  emerged  can  wait,  and  wait  a  long  time. 
They  could  not  be  fairly  settled  until  laid  before  an 
international  court,  where  evidence  could  be  taken  and 
sifted,  the  thing  in  action  argued  and  the  brief  pre- 
pared for  a  second  and  protracted  peace  conference 
to  settle  definitely  all  these  secondary  questions,  the 
question  of  nationality,  autonomy  for  the  submerged 
peoples;  the  question  of  the  general  interest  which 
resembles  the  balance-of-power  doctrine  transplanted 


WITH  POSSIBLE  ATTAINMENT  435 


from  Europe  to  the  world;  the  question  of  superior 
and  inferior  civilizations  with  their  reciprocal  strug- 
gles; the  question  of  democracy  in  mortal  combat 
not  against  autocracy  or  monarchy  but  with  socialism. 
Making  the  world  safe  for  democracy,  we  have  been 
told  by  a  few  men  from  the  trenches,  is  already  an 
antiquated  slogan.  The  stratified  democracy  of  to-day 
has  all  the  earmarks  of  an  intolerable  social  hierarchy, 
no  better  than  constitutional  monarchy  in  its  social 
influence.  The  war  will  have  been  fought  in  vain, 
or  worse  than  that,  for  a  reaction,  if  we  do  not  emerge 
without  distinctions  of  rank,  fortune,  or  ability.  We 
give  our  bodies,  all  we  have,  for  what  ?  not  merely  to 
destroy  the  enemy  before  us,  but  the  enemy  behind 
us,  the  mediaeval  institutions  which  oppress  us  in 
domestic  matters  and  send  us  to  the  shambles  in  for- 
eign afi"airs.  Away  with  class  and  wealth  and  the 
pomp  of  office.  The  civil  servant,  the  bureaucrat, 
entrenched  in  a  job  with  an  assured  salary,  was  the 
worm  at  the  core  of  Germany's  premature  ripeness 
and  his  class  is  the  real  author  of  the  war.  Yet  we 
go  onward  creating  offices  and  salaries  and,  to  com- 
plete the  vicious  circle,  accelerating  public  opinion 
by  ingenious  devices  to  produce  conditions  which 
themselves  create  the  very  work  the  taxpayer  hires 
the  official  to  do.  The  trenches  with  their  horrors  of 
cold  and  wet  and  fever  lairs,  with  death  an  incident, 
and  disfigurement  by  wounds  a  daily  round,  have 
unquestionably  proved  to  be  forcing-houses  of  social- 
ism. We  pay  with  drafted  lives  say  many,  let  others 
pay  with  drafted  wealth. 

Nationality;  civilization,  high  or  low;  democracy, 
institutional  or  socialistic:  such  questions  have 
through  the  war  loomed  up,  no  longer  as  ideals,  but 
as  importunate  demands.  The  repressive  measures 
of  what  we  have  styled  orderly  government  are  now 
considered  despotism  and  tyranny.    Even  the  thrifty, 


436        THE  CONFLICT  OF  IDEALS 


enterprising,  creative  classes  are  shaken  in  their  con- 
victions, and  for  them  what  were  but  lately  preposter- 
ous heresies  are  now  topics  of  deliberate  discussion. 
Is  there  a  right  of  nationality  ?  Is  there  the  right  of 
a  civilization  considered  superior  to  impose  itself  on 
a  lower?  Must  collectivism  supersede  individualism, 
however  enlightened  its  selfishness? 

At  the  outbreak  of  the  war  there  were  in  the  city 
of  New  York,  with  branches  everywhere,  the  follow- 
ing nationalistic  committees:  Irish,  Polish,  Finnish, 
Ukrainian  (Ruthenian)  Lithuanian,  Armenian,  Ara- 
bian, Syrian,  Persian,  Egyptian,  Indian,  and  Chinese, 
Alsatian,  Bohemian,  and  South  Slav.  Some  brought 
charges  of  oppression  against  Great  Britain,  some 
against  Japan,  others  against  Russia  or  Turkey,  most 
violent  of  all  against  Austria-Hungary,  while  the 
Jugo-Slavs  preferred  the  frying-pan  of  the  Hapsburgs 
to  the  dreaded  fire  of  Italian  control.  As  to  the 
rights  of  civilizations,  we  fought  to  prevent  German- 
ism from  swamping  ours,  are  we  not  still  fighting  in 
the  field  of  diplomacy  to  impose  ours,  measurably  at 
least,  on  the  central  powers  ?  And,  furthermore,  the 
surges  rise  higher  and  higher  of  an  opinion,  terrific 
and  determined  in  Russia,  grim  and  wide-spread  in 
both  the  central  and  western  powers,  that  enduring 
peace  can  be  negotiated  not  between  "free  peoples" 
of  the  present  democratic  type,  but  only  between 
socialized  democracies. 

Even  to  state  such  problems  seems  presumptuous; 
but  they  are  posed  with  passionate  persistency  and 
will  not  down.  They  make  the  heart  sick,  so  ob- 
scure, so  delicate,  so  complicated  are  they.  The 
most  insistent  is  that  of  nationality.  What  were 
called  the  two  dead  nations  of  Europe,  Poland  and 
Bohemia,  which  once  long  ages  ago  were  flourishing 
powers,  forfeited  their  nationality  by  weakness,  moral 
and  physical.    They  now  claim,  and  so  appear,  to  be 


WITH  POSSIBLE  ATTAINMENT  437 


ready  for  resurrection.  Are  they  ?  And  was  the  game 
worth  the  candle,  the  disruption  of  lands  very  much 
alive,  of  Prussia,  Russia,  and  Austria-Hungary  ? 
Then  there  are  what  were  styled  the  dead  lands, 
Roumania,  Servia,  and  Jugo-Slavia,  all  three  of  which 
pleaded  for  what  two  have  had,  but  lost,  and  the  third 
desires,  an  independent  life  as  self-directed  nationali- 
ties; Bulgaria  feels  herself  a  torso  without  Macedonia. 
Were  all  four  of  these  desires  fulfilled  as  in  measure 
they  already  are,  Slavism  confederated  and  consoli- 
dated might  and  eventually  will  hold  the  same  relation 
to  Germanism  as  the  latter  held  to  the  former  in  1914. 
Would  the  reversal  be  a  gain  ?  Germans,  at  least, 
would  not  admit  it  and  their  bellicose  spirit  would  be 
perpetuated  while  they  sullenly  bided  their  time — 
their  second  "Day"  of  wrath  and  judgment  to  come. 
British  opinion  is  intolerant,  and  justly  so,  to  any 
comparison  between  Poland  and  Ireland;  yet  Great 
Britain  as  a  war  measure  pleaded  for  and  with  our 
aid  brought  to  pass  the  restoration  of  a  greater  Poland. 
Carlyle's  fierce  denunciations  of  the  Poland  that  was, 
and  his  justification,  in  the  name  of  civilization,  of 
her  partition,  are  not  recalled;  but  they  were  written 
and  remain  written.  If  the  Poles  are  morally  re- 
generate, fit  for  self-government  as  we  say,  then  the 
question  answers  itself.  But  suppose  that  in  learn- 
ing that  hard,  hard  lesson  they  continue  the  border 
warfare  already  begun  and  remain  for  a  generation 
disturbers  of  the  public  order,  where  is  our  enduring 
peace  ?  Such  considerations  are  forced  upon  us  by 
the  course  of  affairs  in  emancipated  Russia.  Could 
the  peace  commissioners  have  fitted  themselves  for 
this  task  by  travel  and  observation  among  the  rude 
boors  so  clamorous  for  liberty,  which,  as  they  under- 
stand it,  means  much  license  and  little  restraint  ?  Cer- 
tainly not,  and  the  determination  of  culture  frontiers, 
language,  tradition,  confession,  would  be  impossible 


438         THE  CONFLICT  OF  IDEALS 


if  they  had  so  travelled.  They  would  have  discovered 
that  these  so-called  nationalities  are  not  unified  and 
contiguous,  that  race  and  language  are  distributed 
in  spots  or  enclaves;  Roumanians  maintaining  them- 
selves in  groups  among  Bulgarians  or  vice  versa,  Ger- 
mans in  large  settlements  among  Magyars,  Czechs 
commingled  to  the  eastward  with  both  Germans  and 
Magyars,  and  so  on  and  so  on.  The  very  first  step 
in  compacting  nationalities  would  be  wholesale  de- 
portations of  the  cruel,  Turkish  sort. 

The  enduring  peace  of  the  world,  a  peace  that  can 
be  enforced  for  at  least  three  generations,  must 
eventually  find  for  this  prickly  question  the  middle 
course:  in  the  peace  charter  there  is  not  even  an  ap- 
proach to  it.  And  this  course  cannot  be  found  with- 
out a  campaign  of  world-wide  education  on  the  sub- 
ject. Already  propaganda  leaflets  and  pamphlets 
flutter  through  our  windows  on  every  breeze;  they  are 
seemingly  dispassionate  and  present  their  case  with  in- 
genious elaboration.  One  explains  that  there  can  be 
no  balance  of  power  in  Europe  without  a  Poland,  an- 
other that  the  Czecho-Slovaks  have  been  ground  under 
a  foreign  tyrant's  heel  and  want  their  seat  of  govern- 
ment at  Prague  to  satisfy  their  self-esteem;  and  an- 
other sets  forth  the  rights  of  the  Jugo-Slavs  to  na- 
tionality because  there  are  thirteen  millions  of  them 
and  they  have  a  common  speech  with  a  common  tribal 
organization.  The  Roman  Catholic  Croatians  have 
maintained  a  savage  quarrel  with  Hungarians  to  ward 
off  Magyarization,  but  they  succeeded  and  enjoyed 
a  degree  of  self-direction  through  the  viceroy  at 
Agram.  The  Greek  Catholic  Servians,  Bosnians, 
Herzegovinians,  Montenegrins  and  Dalmatians,  inter- 
spersed with  many  Romanists  and  Mohammedans, 
not  only  want  autonomy,  but  no  interference  from 
Croatia,  and  any  other  than  a  purely  artificial  union 
between  the  two  embittered  Christian  confessions 


WITH  POSSIBLE  ATTAINMENT  439 


with  the  Moslem  chuckling  in  his  sleeve  seems  to- 
tally out  of  the  question.  To  enforce  it  would  be 
to  court  the  speedy  outbreak  of  civil  war.  Eastward 
from  the  confines  of  Germany  is  a  world  that  has  no 
faintest  resemblance  to  any  we  have  known  or  which 
Americans  of  our  sort  have  known.  For  a  peace 
conference  backed  by  even  a  powerful  league  of 
nations  arbitrarily  to  solve  such  a  series  of  questions: 
to  disrupt  and  rejoin;  to  allay  passion  and  overcome 
distrust  in  an  off  hand  way,  was  suicidal  to  the  peace 
it  was  itiet  to  make.  A  totally  different  court  com- 
posed of  representative  judges  and  claimants  will 
have  to  sit  long  and  patiently  before  testimony  or 
recommendations  could  be  completed.  In  its  present 
state  the  question  of  European  nationality  makes  the 
barbed-wire  entanglements  of  trench  warfare  appear 
a  simple  and  easy  circumstance. 

The  question  of  Asiatic  and  African  nationalities 
proved  quite  as  intricate,  only  much  more  wild  and 
inscrutable.  "The  Turk  must  go"  is  the  cry.  Yes, 
but  where?  There  are  9,000,000  Turks;  where  and 
how  are  they  to  live  ?  Under  the  repressive  protector- 
ate of  the  international  police  force,  contemplated  by 
most  of  us  with  naif  equanimity?  More  and  more 
the  Turks  have  proved  to  be  the  most  warlike  of  exist- 
ing peoples,  and  the  most  recklessly  barbarous  in 
their  treatment  of  subject  populations.  To  create 
an  Armenian  state  and  guarantee  its  sovereignty 
must  require  a  standing  army  of  large  size  and  high 
efficiency.  The  Syrians  want  relief  from  Turkish 
oppression  and  deserve  it,  but  at  present  the  Syrian 
and  Egyptian  Arabs  can  preserve  order  and  decency 
only  at  the  charges  of  French  and  British  armaments. 
Is  this  to  continue  as  a  recognized  element  in  the  peace 
until  generations  yet  unborn  adopt  western  civiliza- 
tion ?  Indian  unrest  does  not  yield  to  moral  pressure 
either,  and  as  we  pass  on  to  the  farther  east  the  ques- 


440        THE  CONFLICT  OF  IDEALS 

tion  of  nationalities  embracing  peoples  to  be  num- 
bered, not  by  tens  but  by  hundreds  of  millions,  not  of 
white,  but  of  yellow  and  dusky  races,  looms  on  the 
peace  horizon  with  a  menace  like  that  of  the  sprite 
escaped  from  the  bottle  dragged  ashore  by  the  fisher- 
man's net  and  recklessly  uncorked  by  him.  The 
monstrous  and  horrid  shape  of  this  Jinn  casts  a  grow- 
ing shadow  which  reaches  across  the  Pacific  to  our 
shores.  In  all  this  vast  eixpanse  there  is  but  a  single 
police  power,  to  wit :  Japan.  Her  foes  declare  she  is 
keeping  the  house  to  her  own  advantage,  her  friends 
that  she  is  the  one  organizing  regenerating  force 
which  can  cope  with  the  unrest  of  such  enormous 
dimensions.  Must  Japan  become  a  democracy  or  be 
excluded  ?  About  this  boundless,  shapeless  topic  of 
the  oriental  nationalities  we  are  less  informed  than 
about  the  European.  Indeed  we  are  lost  in  Cim- 
merian darkness,  when  compared  with  the  other  great 
powers  whose  officials  have  made  a  specialty  of  it. 
We  at  least  need  time  and  information,  debate  and 
discussion,  the  aid  of  experts  in  oriental  politics  and 
economics,  if  we  are  to  maintain  our  dignity  as  judges 
in  an  international  court,  such  as  must  be  constituted 
and  kept  in  lively  operation  for  a  long,  long  time. 

This  "right"  of  nationality,  which  has  measurably 
secured  recognition,  will  keep  the  bridgehead  and  leave 
other  secondary  matters  to  be  determined  after  the 
peace:  the  questions  of  cultural  superiority  and  social 
democracy.  To  those  who  have  frequently  sat  on  in- 
ternational commissions  or  tribunals  the  "right"  of 
language  is  a  "right"  equally  dubious.  If  we  have  a 
representative  court  of  all  nations  and  tongues  how  is 
it  to  deliberate;  through  interpreters,  cumbersome 
almost  to  absurdity.  Since  immemorial  times  our 
affairs  at  Constantinople  have  been  conducted  by  a 
series  of  admirable  dragomans,  presumably  accurate 
and  upright;  but  after  all  mere  language  machines. 


WITH  POSSIBLE  ATTAINMENT  441 


We  hear  of  linguistic  prodigies  and  they  come  now 
and  then  under  our  observation;  but  the  more  pro- 
digious their  linguistic  capacity  the  less  so  their  other 
characteristics.  No  small  proportion  of  the  mis- 
chief wrought  among  nationalities  in  recent  years  has  • 
been  due  to  a  so-called  English  written  and  spoken  by 
Germans,  who  learn  foreign  tongues  with  assiduity, 
but  very  much  as  they  would  learn  Volapuk.  Ger- 
man teachers  giving  English  instruction  to  their 
pupils  are  with  rare  exceptions  pure  mechanicians, 
and  their  words  are  lifeless,  generally  exasperating. 
It  begins  to  appear  as  if  modern-language  teaching 
had  a  very  high  and  real  value  only  in  two  respects: 
the  reading  of  texts  and  the  colloquial  power  to  ex- 
press material  wants.  Real  thought  can  only  be 
expressed  in  our  native  tongue.  No  doubt  also  the 
ability  to  conduct  business  by  correspondence  and 
by  broken  speech  can  be  acquired.  But  delicate 
negotiation  !  that  is  altogether  another  affair.  With 
these  unhappy  facts  in  view  it  has  been  customary  to 
regard  French,  English,  and  German  as  international 
languages  to  be  used  at  the  choice  of  the  speaker. 
There  is  solid  truth  in  the  contention  that  you  can 
perfectly  understand  what  you  cannot  perfectly  say, 
and  within  limits  the  system  works.  But  it  is  not 
every  democrat  who  has  such  a  knowledge  of  three 
languages  as  may  enable  him  either  to  speak  or  to 
listen:  those  who  can,  derive  either  from  the  scholar 
or  the  leisure  class,  and  only  such  are  able  on  the 
language  side  to  represent  their  country.  To  the 
majority  of  their  laborious  countrymen  they  appear 
more  cosmopolitan  than  national  and  do  not  represent 
them  at  all.  There  is  trouble  ahead  in  thinking,  talk- 
ing, and  behaving  internationally,  as  far  as  the  patri- 
otic plain  man  with  some  contempt  for  fine  manners 
and  elegant  accomplishments  is  concerned.  Should 
our  conferences  and  courts  be  composed  of  such,  as 


442         THE  CONFLICT  OF  IDEALS 

theoretically  they  should  be,  we  will  have  to  pray  for 
a  special  pentecostal  visitation  of  tongues. 

The  superiority  of  a  civilization  is  not  determined 
by  assertion  and  iteration.  As  in  the  case  of  the  higher 
patriotism,  of  which  self-complacency  is  the  one  weak 
element,  the  fact  of  superiority  is  determined  by  the' 
superiority  of  fact,  by  behavior  and  its  results.  What 
lies  athwart  the  path  of  peace  like  a  barricade  is 
patriotism,  not  the  self-seeking  hypocrisy  which  so 
often  passes  for  it,  but  the  true  love  of  home,  respect 
for  ancestry,  devotion  to  principle,  of  which  real 
patriotism  is  compounded,  real  self-sacrificing  patriot- 
ism. Especially  in  Puritan  lands,  the  single  and  col- 
lective temperament  of  which  is  not  only:  believe  as 
I  do,  but  behave  as  I  do.  Here  is  the  only  water  of 
life,  drink  it.  Of  all  human  qualities  this  is  that 
which  cements  society  most  firmly  and  makes  possible 
its  efficient  organization  during  peace  or  war.  It  is 
the  antipodes  to  the  passion  for  prestige.  No  Anglo- 
Saxon  patriot  of  the  right  sort  sincerely  believes  him- 
self or  his  civilization  to  be  the  best  possible,  although 
he  knows  that  he  likes  it  best,  quite  another  thing: 
and  he  is  ready  to  fight  for  it  because  by  its  means  he 
as  an  individual  gets  the  most  out  of  life.  The  pure 
Teuton  has  erected  his  civilization  into  an  idol  or  a 
god.  What  the  Slav  desires  to  begin  he  began  five 
generations  ago,  the  integration  of  his  collective  life. 
Against  the  horrid  monster  of  a  French  despotism, 
smooth  but  hard,  materially  fair  and  morally  rotten, 
enthroned  in  the  west  by  sheer  presumption  and 
hypnotizing  men  by  its  dazzling  beauty,  the  rude 
boors  of  the  middle  and  north  plotted  and  conspired 
and  dashed  their  inefficient  fists  until  at  last  they 
evolved  the  idea  of  organized  and  unprincipled  vio- 
lence under  the  electors  of  Brandenburg  and  the  Kings 
of  Prussia,  who  were  lately  German  emperors.  The 
great  branches  of  the  Teutonic  race  which  had  been 


WITH  POSSIBLE  ATTAINMENT  443 


thoroughly  Romanized,  had  become  Latinized  as  well 
and  were  with  the  oppressor.  Long  dependent  on 
French  culture,  they  could  not  emancipate  themselves 
from  its  insidious  charms  without  going  to  the  very 
roots  of  life.  They  evolved  a  literature,  a  philosophy, 
a  science  which  could  be  and  were  transmuted  into 
material  power.  Amazed  by  successes  which  they 
fondly  and  naturally  believed  to  be  the  result  of  gen- 
eral superiority,  the  German  genius  was  deified  and 
the  cult  of  its  worship  intoxicated  its  devotees.  The 
result  was  vertigo  and  confusion.  It  is  an  open  ques- 
tion whether  or  not  this  is  a  German  peace,  and  if, 
with  an  enlarged  Germany,  free  within  the  limits  of 
what  a  non-political  people  considers  to  be  freedom, 
there  are  70,000,000  of  Germans,  Germanism  must 
be  accepted  as  a  postulate.  But  should  it  prove  to 
be  an  American  peace,  what  then  ?  We  are  not  with- 
out our  idols  of  what  we  call  the  plain  man  and 
democratic  temper  and  committee  government.  Let 
us  not  forget  what  fair  play  demands,  and  remember 
that  there  is  just  that  remnant  of  justice  left  in  the  old 
doctrine  of  public  right.  Is  war  to  infect  us  with  bom- 
bastic cocksureness  ? 

Let  us  have  the  courage  to  face  unpalatable  truths, 
the  foremost  of  which  is  for  us  the  shifting  nature  of 
our  democracy.  Within  a  single  lifetime  the  social 
structure  of  the  United  States  has  been  transformed 
completely  and  beneficently.  The  democracy  which 
De  Tocqueville  knew  and  described  so  alluringly  is  as 
extinct  as  the  dodo.  We  have  thrown  not  one  but 
all  of  our  recognized  political  pilots  overboard  and 
the  ship  is  run  by  irresponsible  bosses — the  wily  polit- 
ocrats  who  know  how  to  give  insinuating  advice  to 
sluggish  minds  as  to  the  disposal  of  their  vote.  In 
every  community  these  persons  are  known  and  as 
my  personal  experience  runs  they  are  not  entirely 
a  bad  sort.    It  has  seemed  to  many  of  us  that  if  we 


444         THE  CONFLICT  OF  IDEALS 


could  legislate  the  boss  into  the  spotlight  where  he 
belongs,  publicity  and  responsibility  would  make  a 
decent  citizen  out  of  him.  But  the  effrontery  with 
which  the  unofficial  but  well-known  and  responsible 
captains  of  industry  and  labor  marshal  their  forces 
for  conflict  gives  us  pause.  Think  of  the  progressive 
movement  in  both  of  our  parties  and  the  uplift  pro- 
gramme which  both  have  adopted,  and  compare  the 
general  attitude  with  that  of  forty  years  ago.  The 
churches,  the  family,  and  private  charity  were  then 
vigorously  at  work  caring  for  the  sick  and  the  aged, 
shielding  the  infirm  of  body  and  mind  within  the  fam- 
ily fold,  providing  liberally  for  secondary  and  higher 
education :  the  taxpayer  was  heavily  burdened  then, 
but  what  he  paid  for  social  betterment  outside  of  his 
taxes  was  enormous.  Slowly,  surely,  and  properly 
the  state  has  assumed  the  most  of  these  burdens, 
while  the  church  and  the  family  (not  of  the  better 
sort)  fail  to  reach  the  overwhelming  mass  of  ordinary 
mankind;  neglect  is  undermining  and  destroying  not 
only  faith  but  the  unselfish  kindliness  which  once  char- 
acterized all  our  American  life.  This  transformation 
of  society  is  not  yet  complete:  we  are  facing  the  ex- 
tinction of  what  we  know  as  charity  because  we  are 
steadily  legislating  wealth  out  of  existence.  That 
free-will  toll  which  the  plutocrat  has  been  paying  to 
society  in  his  munificence  to  colleges,  hospitals,  and 
the  like  will  soon  come  to  a  stop.  When  I  shall  have 
paid  my  taxes,  no  personal  charge  will  remain  except 
the  voluntary  support  of  my  church,  if  I  have  one. 

Such  a  revolution  will  bring  a  day  of  reckoning  for 
the  politicians.  A  discriminating  Frenchman  diag- 
nosed the  French  public  disease  of  venality  and  dis- 
content as  due  to  the  fact  that  there  was  not  an  office 
for  every  Frenchman.  It  will  not  be  long  ere  at  our 
present  pace  we  shall  have  reached  that  absurdity  or 
something  near  it;  then  we  shall  have  the  dreaded 


WITH  POSSIBLE  ATTAINMENT  445 


bureaucracy,  of  capable,  honest,  ingenious  public 
servants,  convincing  themselves  and  the  rest  of  us 
that  they  earn  their  pay,  spending  all  their  energies 
to  perpetuate  the  system  which  supports  them,  and 
devising  subtle  plans  for  the  "acceleration"  of  public 
opinion  either  to  keep  the  peace  or  preserve  the  public 
honor  by  arms  as  may  be  the  deliberate  judgment  of 
those  whose  profession  is  to  make  our  decisions  for 
us  in  public  affairs,  while  we  study  prices  and  margins 
of  small  profit  and  economy  of  consumption  and  live 
the  painstaking  lives  of  the  generality.  The  increas- 
ing drift  of  public  opinion,  that  is  of  the  democratic 
state  of  mind,  from  political  to  civil  and  from  civil 
to  social  and  from  social  to  economic  levelling,  to- 
gether with  a  maximum  of  state  activity,  is  a  fact. 
Whether  or  not  there  is  any  halting  place,  and  what 
it  is,  does  not  yet  appear;  but  one  fact  does  appear: 
that  in  our  present  uncertainty  as  to  our  own  de- 
mocracy, we  need  time  to  study  other  democracies 
in  other  lands  before  we  can  get  even  a  dim  outline 
of  the  kind  of  peace  we  hope  will  endure.  Since  the 
outbreak  of  the  war  both  the  central  European  pow- 
ers and  Japan  have  been  revealed  to  themselves. 
Both  honestly  believed  they  were  on  the  defensive 
until  they  discovered  what  they  were  defending, 
namely  an  economic  overlordship  within  chosen 
spheres  of  influence.  Quite  suddenly  the  Germans 
saw  what  a  few  of  their  intellectuals  had  long  seen, 
that  to  pause  meant  retrogression  and  slow  death; 
and  that  the  middle  Europe  plan  in  conjuncture  with 
the  Balkan  and  Bagdad  plan  was  their  life  or  death 
in  the  near  future ;  and  they  avowed  it  completely  in 
act,  and  partially  in  word.  With  Japan  the  case  has 
been  similar.  Her  terrific  surplus  of  population  must 
either  choke  and  strangle  her  insufficient  insular 
domain  or  find  a  continental  home.  If  there  is  to 
be  a  general,  enduring  peace,  either  our  friend  Japan 


446        THE  CONFLICT  OF  IDEALS 


or  our  foe  Germany,  or  both,  must  be  eliminated 
completely  from  the  maintenance  of  the  tentative 
peace  concluded  in  Paris ;  and  perhaps  splintered  into 
temporary  inefficacy.  Crushed  they  cannot  be,  their 
populations  have  exactly  the  same  type  of  patriotism, 
the  same  passion  for  home  and  home  culture  as  have 
those  of  the  western  allies  and  ourselves.  Here  is 
food  for  thought  and  careful  consideration ;  and  every- 
thing points  to  reducing  our  world  charter  of  peace  to 
its  minimal  terms  in  order  to  gain  time  for  careful 
procedure  based  on  thorough  knowledge.  If  we  are 
to  bring  in  a  new  heaven  and  a  new  earth  abroad,  we 
must  first  produce  a  near-millennium  at  home. 

What  has  been  said  is  not  intended  even  to  be 
tinged  with  irony ;  far  from  it.  There  can  be  no  ques- 
tion but  that  a  peaceful  federation  of  free  peoples 
throughout  the  world  is  appreciably  nearer  than  when 
Queen  Elizabeth  propounded  her  "Great  Design." 
The  very  fact  that  the  millions  of  subject  peoples  are 
awake  to  their  condition  proves  the  enormous  advance 
made  by  them  in  a  consciousness  of  human  worth. 
Furthermore  untiring  discussion  reveals  unsuspected 
possibilities.  If  the  hour  can  be  hastened  for  adminis- 
tering the  compromise  based  on  fair  play  which  the 
peace  terms  contain,  then  the  temper  of  the  world 
will  be  displayed  in  its  actuality.  Our  acceptance 
of  Germany's  challenge  safeguarded  our  self-respect 
indefinitely;  the  deliberate  speed  with  which  we 
advanced  preparedness  on  a  colossal  scale  clarified 
our  views  as  to  our  own  efficiency,  gave  us  a  calm 
self-reliance  and  proclaimed  to  possible  foes  that 
compulsory  justice  is  a  part  of  international  law.  We 
want  and  we  need  not  merely  a  formal  peace,  but  a 
settled  one,  in  order  to  set  our  own  house  in  order, 
no  longer  as  an  isolated  democracy,  no  longer  as  a 
member  of  a  great  American  federation  even,  but  as 
a  model  member  in  the  great  family  of  democratic 


WITH  POSSIBLE  ATTAINMENT  447 


nations  throughout  the  world.  In  reply  to  President 
Wilson's  note  of  December  19,  191 6,  the  peace  terms 
of  the  Allies  were  stated  as  follows:  "The  civilized 
world  knows  that  the  aims  of  the  Allies  include  the 
reorganization  of  Europe  guaranteed  by  a  stable 
settlement,  based  alike  on  the  principle  of  nationali- 
ties and  on  the  right  which  all  peoples,  whether  small 
or  great,  have  to  the  enjoyment  of  full  security  and 
free  economic  development."  In  the  total  German 
alliance  there  were  over  92,000,000  of  people  holding 
in  subjection  over  47,000,000.  This  is  shown  by  a 
widely  distributed  map  of  Europe  and  hither  Asia 
compiled  from  German  sources.  The  subject  peo- 
ples of  Europe  under  the  allies  numbered  about 
5,000,000:  Irish,  Greeks,  and  Savoyards,  the  two  form- 
er unhappy,  the  latter  more  or  less  contented.  Let  us 
consider  these  facts  and  determine  whether  we  could 
possibly  have  insisted  upon  the  liberation  of  them 
all,  or  a  part  of  them,  whether  we  could  have  left 
them  as  isolated  as  Mexico,  patiently  waiting  while 
the  turbulent,  bloody  process  of  reconstruction  went 
forward  to  its  end.  If  this  emancipation  into  license 
be  part  of  the  minimum  terms,  well  and  good:  pro- 
vided only  we  realize  what  we  have  been  doing. 

Another  pivotal  consideration  is  whether  we  are  to 
have  indefinitely  such  a  passive  peace  as  has  been 
negotiated,  a  peace  like  the  Roman  peace  under  the 
Antonines,  or  the  short  Greek  peace  under  the  Athen- 
ian empire  in  the  days  of  Pericles,  a  peace  enforced  in 
some  places  by  one  power  or  in  others  by  a  league  of 
powers;  a  peace  without  life  and  without  honor,  or 
whether  we  want  peace  with  honor,  a  peace,  instinct 
and  vibrating  with  life,  because  all  parties  to  it  have 
secured  in  the  main  what  they  feel  to  be  the  minimum 
essential  to  their  respective  lives,  a  peace  cherished 
because  of  the  blessings,  material  and  spiritual,  which 
it  affords.    Few  of  us  have  given  sufficient  study  to 


448        THE  CONFLICT  OF  IDEALS 


the  later  histories  of  the  small  neutral  states  of  Europe. 
Three  Scandinavian  kingdoms,  the  two  Netherland 
powers  and  Switzerland.  Forced  through  weakness 
out  of  all  participation  at  the  international  council 
board  they  have  been  a  happy  family  of  prosperous 
neutrals.  Their  territories  have  been  transformed 
by  a  new  agriculture,  their  domestic  politics  quickened 
by  leisure  to  consider  problems  relegated  elsewhere 
to  the  background,  their  seafaring  and  manufactures 
are  a  wonder  and  in  the  case  of  Holland,  colonial  ad- 
ministration was  regenerated.  Their  literature  and 
art  have  proportionately  outstripped  the  advance 
of  their  great  neighbors.  One  right,  and  one  only 
they  have  had  denied  them,  the  right  to  grow  larger, 
colonially  or  otherwise,  but  it  may  well  be  that  such 
an  example  will  have  its  enticements  even  for  the 
large  states  upon  which  peace  will  be  forced,  a  peace 
maintained  by  force,  a  peace  without  honor  because 
compulsory.  A  man  or  a  people  good  because  com- 
pelled to  be  good  is  not  practised  in  virtue.  Shall  we 
dictate  or  help  to  dictate  the  terms  of  virtue  and 
rattle  a  trusty,  victorious  sword  whenever  there  are 
signs  of  uneasy  naughtiness.  Unquestionably  the 
belligerents  with  whom  we  were  associated,  regarded 
the  association  as  an  alliance  in  fact  if  not  entirely 
in  form  and  expected  exactly  this  enforced  and  passive 
peace.  They  will  consider  ours  a  Punic  faith  if  we 
behave  otherwise  than  they  expected,  refusing  to  bear 
a  full  share  of  all  military  and  administrative  burdens. 
Nor  will  formal,  solemn  asseveration  that  we  were  not 
so  bound,  mend  matters  at  all.  We  must  be  ready 
with  a  settlement  basically  just,  and  therefore,  morally 
binding;  a  peace  with  honor.  If  others  disdain  such 
a  compromise  peace,  that  is  their  affair.  We  can  then, 
and  then  only,  be  too  proud  to  disdain  fair  play  and 
generosity.  Give  the  other  man  a  good  bargain  is 
the  rule  of  honorable  dealing  individually:  so  it  is 
collectively. 


WITH  POSSIBLE  ATTAINMENT  449 


In  this  respect  we  are  to  be  sorely  tried.  Aside 
from  several  cases  in  point,  such  as  Turkey,  Armenia, 
and  Mexico,  there  is  one  which  is  likely  to  be  most 
acute,  calling  on  the  west  for  a  degree  of  self-abnega- 
tion amounting  to  stupefaction.  We  have  never 
sufficiently  realized  that  the  horrible  cruelties  of 
dynastic  autocracy  in  Russia  were  the  tyranny  of  a 
people  styled  Great  Russians  and  numbering  possi- 
bly 60,000,000,  the  close-knit,  fairly  homogeneous 
admixture  of  Slavs  and  Finns  whose  capitals  were 
Moscow  and  Petrograd.  It  was  they  who  wrought 
the  revolution,  theirs  was  the  first  provisional  govern- 
ment, and  theirs  is  the  Bolshevist  fury,  the  grim  de- 
termination to  perpetuate,  if  need  be,  in  gory  anarchy 
their  ascendancy  over  all  the  thirty-eight  peoples 
who  constitute  what  was  once  the  Russian  empire. 
They  have  always  been  feared  and  hated,  but  their 
race-consciousness  has  made  their  authority  under 
Czardom  unassailable.  Under  a  socialistic  make- 
shift committee  it  proved  a  broken  reed.  In  the  hour 
of  dissolution  there  has  been  a  deathbed  scene,  in- 
human, impious,  and  obscene.  The  6,000,000  White 
Russians  living  on  the  swampy  margins  of  Lithuania 
are  dull  and  cowed,  manifesting  neither  desire  nor 
capacity  for  autonomy,  though  they  have  no  love  for 
their  masters.  But  the  30,000,000  Ruthenians  or 
Ukrainians,  or  Little  Russians,  are  not  so,  they 
have  an  intense  race-consciousness,  have  a  lan- 
guage, a  confession  (Uniates),  a  tradition,  and  a 
capital  city  of  their  own  (Kieff).  They  intensely  re- 
sent their  treatment  by  the  Great  Russians.  Like 
the  Finns  and  Poles  they  want  autonomy:  perhaps 
when  the  facts  of  the  negotiations  at  Brest-Litovsk  are 
known  they  will  be  found  to  have  secured  it.  More- 
over, their  seats  are  the  most  delightful  and  fertile 
portions  of  eastern  Europe.  Between  the  swamps 
and  barrens  crossing  central  Russia,  southward  to  the 


450        THE  CONFLICT  OF  IDEALS 


Black  Sea,  they  live  and  toil,  reaping  rich  harvests 
for  rude  tyrants.  Galicia  contains  a  very  substantial 
number,  as  well  as  Poles  and  Jews,  another  great  block 
inhabits  the  Carpathian  districts  of  Hungary  and  Bu- 
kowina.  This  mighty  population  holds  all  other  Rus- 
sians as  a  degraded  mixture  and  considers  Kieff,  the 
original  focus  of  Russian  life  and  religion,  as  alone 
worthy  to  be  a  Russian  capital.  Three  times  at  long 
intervals  they  have  struck  h'ard  for  national  existence, 
but  in  their  last  effort  Great  Russia  proved  victorious 
and  during  four  generations  they  have  suffered  shame- 
fully under  the  process  of  ruthless  Russification.  In 
the  face  of  our  generous  assertions  about  the  consent 
of  the  governed,  the  Great  Russian  ochlochracy  sim- 
ply must  let  these  peoples  go :  Finns  in  Finland,  Poles 
in  Poland,  and  Ruthenians  in  the  Ukraine.  Mani- 
festly it  was  this  which  destroyed  the  Russian  offen- 
sive in  war  and  jeopardized  our  cause.  To  the  plea  of 
the  home  ruler  that  autonomy  of  the  various  Russian 
stocks  in  a  Russian  federation  will  eventually  make 
Russia  a  more  redoubtable  foe,  the  answer  is  that  it 
will  protract  a  decision  indefinitely  and  that  our  sacri- 
fices in  the  cause  of  liberty  may  bleed  us  as  white  as 
the  other  western  powers  already  are.  To  bestow  on 
others  all  the  blessings  we  feel  ourselves  to  enjoy  is  a 
most  portentous  enterprise.  No  wonder  Germany 
was  sincere  in  the  high  and  contemptuous  tone  she 
was  so  lately  taking.  She  too  wanted  the  role  of 
protecting  the  oppressed.  Finns,  Poles,  and  Ruthen- 
ians, they  all  for  some  time  looked  to  her  for  the  over- 
throw of  Moscovite  tyranny,  socialistic  and  anarchis- 
tic, democratic  as  well  as  autocratic. 

We  all  begin  to  see  that  the  demand  for  a  clear 
line  of  demarcation  between  primary  and  secondary 
terms  of  peace  must  eventually  be  made,  if  the  peace 
is  to  be  enforced  and  kept,  and  that  we  are  primarily 
concerned  with  the  former  if  our  ideal  of  empire  is  to 


WITH  POSSIBLE  ATTAINMENT  451 


be  realized.  We  want  no  vague  and  hazy  theocracies 
like  the  early  oriental  governments,  nor  a  Greek  im- 
perial democracy  based  on  slavery  and  force,  nor  a 
Roman  imperial  control  based  on  an  army  and  on 
law  however  just,  if  it  has  to  be  enforced  by  militar- 
ism; least  of  all  do  we  want  a  mediaeval  empire  as 
catholic  and  sovereign  as  its  other  self,  the  catholic, 
all-comprehensive  church.  In  the  composition  of  frail 
humanity  there  always  was  and  there  lingers  still  a 
dream  of  universal  imperial  sway.  The  British  empire 
has  realized  many  high  ideals.  Germany  has  formed 
those  which  are  antagonistic,  which  we  consider 
warped  and  degenerate,  based  on  those  of  Rome  and 
just  as  antiquated.  The  fight  of  the  giants  is  be- 
tween the  hostile  ideals,  as  well  as  between  the  sordid 
self-seeking  which  lurks  around.  During  the  world- 
shattering  conflicts  both  theirs  and  ours  have  been 
modified,  Germany's  for  the  worse,  our  own  we  trust 
for  the  better.  We  want  what  the  battlefield  and 
peace  conferences  cannot  give,  a  world-wide  empire 
of  justice  and  reason.  To  define  justice  and  formu- 
late the  rule  of  reason,  there  will  have  to  be  long 
discussion  in  a  parliament  of  the  world,  a  constitu- 
tional and  constituent  assembly  composed  of  popular 
representatives,  men  of  good  will  abhorring  violence. 
To  inaugurate  its  sessions  we  must  have  peace  with 
honor,  the  terms  of  which  shall  exclude  the  vast 
majority  of  contentious  questions  which  are  yet 
justiciable.  If  we  are  going  to  be  all-inclusive  eventu- 
ally, we  must  first  be  fearlessly  exclusive  of  all  the 
derivative  issues,  so  that  the  din  of  arms  may  cease 
and  the  uproar  of  debate  may  begin.  We  must  have 
a  heart  for  any  fate;  whether  wily  diplomats  dish  up 
a  nominal  peace  within  the  year  and  leisurely  go  about 
the  consideration  of  the  maximum — or  whether  im- 
patient sufiferers  in  the  cause  of  nationality,  civiliza- 
tion, and  democracy  stand  out  for  substantive  results 


452        THE  CONFLICT  OF  IDEALS 


and  prolong  the  conflict  indefinitely  in  a  war-worn, 
battle-scarred  world  of  sorrow.  Either  may  be  the 
outcome;  the  former  would  bear  finer  fruit  in  the 
future,  the  latter  would  better  content  the  present 
generation. 

As  a  rule  the  manners  of  liberty  have  not  been  gentle 
manners;  and  in  the  name  of  liberty  the  most  ruthless 
tyranny  has  been  practised  as  it  may  be  again.  Men 
of  affairs  are  still,  as  they  have  been  for  three  years, 
talking  scornfully  of  any  return  to  the  status  quo  ante 
because  it  was  the  status  quo  ante  out  of  which  pro- 
tracted horror  has  come.  Yet  the  general  cry  was: 
no  annexations,  no  indemnities,  which  is  territorially 
and  financially  the  same  thing  plus  the  appalling  ex- 
travagance of  war  loans  and  war  taxes,  and  the  re- 
arrangement of  nationalities.  This  plus-age  was 
inevitable  in  the  primary  arrangements  for  peace; 
but  with  that  and  the  limitation  of  armaments,  the 
regulation  of  ocean  trade  and  the  readjustment  of 
boundaries,  there  could  be  and  is  no  slightest  hint 
of  returning  to  a  previous  condition  of  European  or 
even  of  American  affairs.  The  relations  of  unde- 
veloped and  backward  peoples  to  each  other,  and  of 
the  vanguard  to  the  rearguard  are  the  secondary  mat- 
ters: and,  though  fundamental  to  enduring  peace, 
they  can  secure  better  attention  when  guns  are  not 
rattling,  cannon  booming,  shells  bursting  and  human- 
ity groaning  unutterably,  as  they  still  are  on  the 
frontiers  newly  delimited.  As  to  the  inevitable  de- 
velopment in  the  relations  of  states  to  their  citizens 
and  of  citizens  to  each  other,  state  ownership  of  gen- 
eral utilities  and  natural  resources,  private  enterprise 
under  state  control,  limitations  on  wealth,  etc.,  that  is 
the  work  of  giants  freed  from  the  outward  thrust  for 
defense  or  offense;  it  is,  as  many  think,  a  task  imposed 
by  the  primitive  curse,  has  been  in  process  of  solution 
throughout  the  ages  and  is  not  likely  but  certain  so 


WITH  POSSIBLE  ATTAINMENT  453 


to  continue.  Ease  is  no  treasure,  moth  and  rust  cor- 
rupt the  easy-minded.  The  struggle  for  life  and  the 
realization  of  ideals  never  ends,  and  fortunately  so. 
It  is  utter  weariness,  yet  it  is  the  sense  of  failure  which 
regenerates  the  worker,  turning  his  mind  to  the  con- 
templation of  the  highest  thing,  the  salvation  of  his 
own  soul,  not  by  matter,  but  by  the  spirit.  The  way- 
farer is  the  only  joyous  pilgrim,  because  his  goal  is 
ever  receding  as  he  approaches  it :  and  it  is  the  game, 
not  the  victory,  which  rejoices  the  true  sportsman. 
So  it  will  be  as  it  must  be  with  the  elaboration  of  our 
present  peace,  a  milestone  on  the  path  of  progress 
toward  nobler  living,  but  leaving  a  vista  of  travel 
over  long  and  weary  stretches  before  human  perfecti- 
bility can  be  even  distinguished  in  flickering  outline. 
The  earthly  Salem,  the  city  of  peace,  military,  politi- 
cal, or  economic,  will  still  be  afar  off.  But  it  will  be 
nearer  because  the  doctrine  of  perpetual  peace  has 
become  a  working  hypothesis. 


VIII 


PEACE  AS  THE  TEST  OF  OUR  DEMOCRACY 

THE  EFFICIENCY  OF  AMERICAN  DEMOCRACY;  MILITARY,  FINANCIAL, 
ECONOMIC,  AND  MORAL — SUPREME  TEST  THE  FULFILMENT  OF  PEACE 
terms;  FIRM,  DEFINITE,  AND  ENDURING  PEACE — CORRECTION  OF  THOSE 
FALSE  AND  DISTORTED  CONCEPTIONS  OF  NATIONALITY  WHICH  UNDER- 
LAY ALL  OTHER  CAUSES  OF  THE  WAR — OUR  UNION  THE  CONSPICUOUS 
EXAMPLE  OF  COORDINATING  NATIONAL  [MUNICIPAL]  LAW  WITH  INTER- 
NATIONAL LAW:  HAS  AFFORDED  THE  FIRST  EXAMPLE  OF  DECLARING 
WAR  IN  SUPPORT  OF  THE  LATTER — HAVE  WE  ALSO  CREATED  A  PUBLIC 
OPINION  WHICH  EXPRESSES  ITSELF  INTERNATIONALLY  ? — THE  DOCTRINE 
OF  NON-INTERVENTION  TO  BE  SUBSTANTIALLY  MODIFIED  BUT  NOT  NUL- 
LIFIED— AMONG  QUESTIONS  REGARDED  AT  FIRST  AS  SECONDARY,  THOSE 
OF  THE  ATLANTIC  AND  PACIFIC  HAVE  BECOME  PRIMARY — OUR  EASTERN 
SHORE  COMPELLED  TO  LOOK  EASTWARD:  THE  IMPORTING  AND  IMMI- 
GRANT SHORE — THE  PACIFIC  STATES  SHOULD  STUDY  AND  STATE  THE 
PACIFIC  PROBLEM:  THE  EXPORTING  AND  WORLD-MARKET  SHORE — OUR 
EASTERN  AND  MIDDLE  STATES  FAIRLY  CLEAR  AS  TO  TRANS-ATLANTIC 
POLICY:  THE  PACIFIC  STATES  SUPERBLY  PATRIOTIC,  BUT  ALSO  DISPOSED 
TO  LOOK  EASTWARD — THEIR  SPECIFIC  TASK  TO  CREATE  A  DEFINITE 
PUBLIC  OPINION  AS  TO  PACIFIC  PROBLEMS — OUR  DEPLORABLE  LACK 
IN  THE  COMPREHENSION  OF  THE  FAR  EAST.  NO  SCHOOLS  OF  COM- 
MERCE OR  DIPLOMACY  TO  STUDY  ITS  PEOPLES,  TONGUES,  AND  POINT  OF 
VIEW — THE  HOMOGENEITY  OF  THE  PACIFIC  POPULATION  SHOULD  LIGHTEN 
THE  TASK  OF  CONCENTRATING  PUBLIC  OPINION — THE  NAVAL  STRATEGY 
OF  THE  PACIFIC.  INSTANCES  OF  IGNORANCE  AND  INDIFFERENCE — GEOG- 
RAPHY AND  PHYSIOGRAPHY  OF  THE  PACIFIC  NOT  STUDIED  AS  ARE  THOSE 
OF  THE  ATLANTIC — OCEAN  HIGHWAYS  DETERMINATIVE  FACTORS  IN  PEACE 
AS  WELL  AS  IN  WAR:  INTERDEPENDENCE  OF  NATIONS  BASED  ON  THE 
KNOWLEDGE  AND  USE  OF  THEM — ENDURING  PEACE  DEPENDENT  ON  THE 
FAIRNESS  AND  JUSTICE  OF  SETTLEMENTS:  AND  THE  PACIFIC  QUESTION 
SECOND  TO  NO  OTHER  IN  IMPORTANCE — THERE  SHOULD  BE  NO  SENSI- 
TIVENESS AS  TO  WHAT  ONE  REGION  OF  THE  UNITED  STATES  THINKS  OF 
ANOTHER.  EACH  MUST  PERFORM  ITS  OWN  TASK  AND  IMPOSE  ON  THE 
OTHERS  PRINCIPLES  OF  RIGHT  THINKING  AND  JUST  DEALING  AS  TO  THE 
WHOLE. 

As  is  natural  under  existing  conditions  we  are  prone  to 
consider  the  final  test  of  democracy  to  be  its  efficiency 
in  peace.  Ours  has  exhibited  a  military  efficiency 
marvellous  in  the  eyes  of  all  mankind  including  our 
own.  Our  financial  efficiency  has  been  equally  re- 
markable, because  without  our  self-denial  and  the 
lavish  supplies  of  every  kind  wherewith  the  belliger- 

4S4 


PEACE  AS  THE  TEST 


455 


ents  have  been  furnished  there  would  have  been  a 
disastrous  and  unhappy  end  to  the  struggle.  Our 
efficiency  in  the  conservation  of  food  was  admittedly 
phenomenal.  The  price  paid  for  this  efficiency  was 
very  high,  because  the  powers  of  our  chief  magistrate, 
civil  and  military,  were  temporarily  enlarged  into 
those  of  a  dictator.  Inasmuch  as  the  use  of  these 
powers  did  not  seem  tyrannical  to  the  ardent 
American  patriots  who  formed  the  overwhelming 
majority  as  against  a  malignant  but  insignificant 
minority  of  enemy  sympathizers  we  may  comfort  our- 
selves with  the  thought  that  the  tacit  and  enthusiastic 
consent  of  democracy  is  one  way  of  exhibiting  its 
sovereignty.  It  was  at  least  a  democratic  dictator- 
ship ultimately  forced  to  obey  the  unquestioned  will 
of  the  people,  expressed  in  majority  rule. 

With  a  cause  we  knew  to  be  just,  fighting  for  self- 
respect,  self-defense,  and  the  welfare  of  posterity,  our 
uppermost  thought  was  decisive  victory.  Without 
the  humiliation  of  our  enemy,  all  else  would  be  naught; 
and  with  a  peace  based  on  exhaustion  or  on  a  state  of 
wasted  opportunity  there  would  have  opened  a  sorry 
vista,  a  perspective  of  recuperation  for  the  renewal  of 
conflict,  a  vigilant  and  burdensome  militarism 
throughout  the  world,  a  perpetuation  of  intolerable 
international  relations.  We  did  well,  therefore,  to 
bend  every  energy  and  make  every  sacrifice,  so  that  we 
might  command  and  not  accept  a  peace.  But  it  was 
exactly  in  that  act,  the  dictating  a  peace,  that  the  su- 
preme test  of  our  democracy  came.  To  use  the  com- 
mon phrase,  in  making  the  world  safe  for  democracy 
did  we  make  democracy  safe  for  the  world  ?  Having 
the  power,  have  we  had  the  knowledge  to  state  the 
terms  of  a  just  and  enduring  peace  ?  Suppose  we 
had  both  the  power  and  the  knowledge,  did  we  also 
have  the  unselfishness  and  the  chivalry  to  make  a  peace 
both  enduring  and  just,  because  generous.    That  we 


456 


PEACE  AS  THE  TEST 


would  have  both  the  power  and  the  generosity 
seemed  Hkely :  but  we  have  been  sadly  disenchanted  by 
the  little  backward  nations.  We  iterated  and  reiter- 
ated that  we  sought  no  advantage  of  our  own;  we 
believed  it,  and  this  unselfish  confidence  in  our  na- 
tional virtue  would,  we  felt  certain,  carry  us  "over 
the  top"  at  the  decisive  moment.  But  what  about 
our  knowledge  ?  We  thought  democracy,  American 
democracy,  intelligent  and  accomplished,  able  to 
form  an  enlightened  public  opinion ;  were  we  right  ? 

There  is  much  to  give  us  pause  before  we  answer 
afifirmatively.  The  battle-cry  of  this  warfare  has 
been  a  word  which  sounds  innocent  enough  but  con- 
tains the  germs  of  all  unrighteousness;  to  wit,  nation- 
ality. To  the  aggressors  it  has  meant  the  inclusion 
under  one  government,  under  one  political  system, 
within  a  definite  territory,  of  all  who  claim  a  common 
origin,  have  common  institutions,  faith,  and  speech. 
In  particular  the  Ottoman  empire  hitherto  and  measur- 
ably even  yet  a  congeries  of  unrelated  parts,  each 
clamoring  for  emancipation  and  independence,  aimed 
either  to  exterminate  all  who  were  not  Moslem  Turks, 
or  else  to  Turkify  them.  Such,  too,  was  the  parallel 
aim  of  its  embittered  foe,  the  Czardom  seated  at  St. 
Petersburg.  It  was,  therefore,  in  eastern  Europe, 
the  wildest  and  most  backward  of  all  lands,  not  ex- 
cepting Mexico,  that  the  passion  for  nationality 
became  a  menace  to  the  peace  of  the  world  and  to  all 
civilization,  even  the  bastard  culture  of  Germany. 
It  was  the  solemn,  though  preposterous  conviction, 
of  the  German  bureaucracy  that  by  the  appeal  to 
nationality,  the  world  around,  they  could  splinter 
Brazil,  the  United  States,  and  the  British  empire, 
recall  a  lukewarm  kinsfolk  settled  in  foreign  lands  to 
German  allegiance,  and  thus  secure  a  hegemony  at 
all  strategic  points,  especially  in  the  south  and  east; 
because  all  the  European  peoples,  including  them- 


OF  OUR  DEMOCRACY 


457 


selves,  suffer  so  under  the  survival  of  that  primitive 
curse  known  as  heliotropism,  the  longing  for  sun 
lands,  tropical  and  semitropical.  What  Americans 
proved  in  the  result  to  know  about  this  bacillus  of 
nationality  in  its  virulent  activity  was  little  enough. 
Yet  at  the  peace  council  the  most  impassioned  and 
misleading  pleas  to  save  it  from  the  electrocution  it 
deserves,  were  both  heard  and  heeded. 

Yet  even  self-knowledge  would,  in  our  case,  be  world 
knowledge.  Ostensibly  a  federation  of  sovereign 
states — free  and  independent  each  claims  to  be — in 
reality  we  find  a  federal  state  useful  for  administra- 
tion both  of  local  and  national  affairs  and  have  al- 
most forgotten  even  the  phrase:  States'  rights. 
What  we  have  builded  and  are  building  within  our 
own  borders  is  a  federation  not  only  of  states,  but 
of  peoples,  European,  and  even  in  a  measure,  Asiatic. 
Lawyers  know  that  the  friction  between  municipal 
and  international  law  has  been  severe  throughout  all 
modern  history  and  at  times  has  menaced  interna- 
tional relations.  The  public  law  of  the  nations  in 
relation  to  each  other  has  so  far  received  its  widest 
validity  in  the  regulation  of  all  our  interstate  affairs 
and  is  in  that  respect  a  lesson  to  all  peoples.  But 
it  has  affected  us  more  profoundly  than  all  the  rest, 
unconsciously  but  really ;  because  we  are  familiar  with 
it.  For  the  first  time  in  history  a  great  power  has 
set  foremost  among  the  causes  for  declaring  war  the 
violations  of  international  law:  that  is  what  we  have 
done,  violations  against  other  nations  and  our  own. 
Now  this  very  extraordinary  achievement  has  reacted 
in  an  unforeseen  way  among  the  constituent  elements 
of  our  population.  Persons  now  living  will  behold  in 
a  not  very  distant  future  the  dwelling  together  in 
unity  and  brotherhood  of  Americans  whose  pre- 
American  traditions,  and  race,  and  speech,  and  habits 
differed  by  the  whole  universe.    The  melting-pot  is 


458  PEACE  AS  THE  TEST 


not  going  to  produce  a  new  chemical  mass,  it  is  going 
to  purify  from  their  dangerous  nationaHstic  dross  the 
various  elements  cast  into  it  and  turn  the  later  immi- 
grants into  a  type,  like,  but  not  necessarily  identical, 
with  that  of  the  earlier  ones.  Self-examination  and 
success  in  adapting  private  to  public  law  really  fitted 
the  American  democracy  to  preside  at  the  peace  con- 
gress: but  the  presidency  proved  formal  and  inef- 
fective. 

Of  course  far  more  than  such  self-examination, ' 
however  rigid,  was  required  to  make  enduring  the 
hoped-for  peace  of  the  world,  inaugurated  but  not 
completed  at  Paris.  But  the  one  example  just  given 
must  sufifice  for  the  present,  so  that  we  may  turn  to 
the  second  and  even  more  vital  point — the  question 
of  public  opinion  in  a  democracy  and  how  it  is  to  ex- 
press itself  in  international  affairs.  We  all  know 
what  a  painful  process  learning  and  thinking  is;  so 
painful  and  so  exhausting  that  we  shirk  it  and  leave 
the  formation  of  opinion  to  experts.  A  boss-ridden 
democracy  is  the  outcome,  for  in  some  form  the  boss 
has  been  indispensable,  the  leader  who  devotes  him- 
self exclusively  to  politics  as  a  profession  and  advises 
the  slothful  voter.  It  is  he  who  has  devised  the  whole 
machinery  of  party  government  and  runs  it.  Many 
leaders  lead  with  no  other  remuneration  than  the 
sense  of  power;  many  more  secure  a  livelihood  by 
ofifice-holding,  and  as  many  more  as  the  contractors 
for  public  works  which  they  propose,  which  by  their 
influence  are  legislated  into  projects  and  from  which 
they  have  their  profit,  legal  or  illegal,  but  in  most 
cases  immoral.  To  this  process  in  domestic  affairs 
there  has  always  been  an  analogy  in  the  conduct  of 
foreign  affairs.  Except  that  the  management  of  the 
latter  has  generally  been  committed  to  high-minded 
statesmen,  who  form  and  lead  public  opinion  about 
international  relations  almost  as  completely  as  do  the 
petty  politicians  about  local  affairs. 


OF  OUR  DEMOCRACY  459 


Hitherto  we  have  regarded  this  state  of  things  as  a 
necessary  evil.  Out  of  it  grew  the  old  international 
law  and  the  whole  system  of  international  relations 
alike  in  war  and  peace;  the  systems  of  congresses,  of 
secret  treaties,  of  baneful  alliances,  of  a  sudden  call 
to  wars,  unforeseen  and  unsuspected  by  those  who 
carry  their  burdens,  of  peace  negotiations  which  fixed 
the  status  of  lands  and  peoples  with  absolute  disregard 
of  their  consent.  Our  administration  proclaimed  to 
the  world  its  discontent  with  all  this,  demanding 
"open  covenants  openly  arrived  at,"  in  a  world  safe 
for  democracy;  and  has  reiterated  that  no  govern- 
ment shall  stand  without  the  consent  of  the  governed. 
Literally  taken,  this  would  mean  that  the  existing 
governments  of  Europe  should,  as  far  as  the  great 
powers  are  concerned,  be  relegated  to  the  historical 
rummage  drawer;  because  though  all  are  democratic 
in  some  sense,  not  one  can  grasp  our  system  of  de- 
mocracy, partly  because  each  finds  its  own  very 
troublesome,  and  likewise  becau-se  every  one  of  them 
has  one  or  more  so-called  nationalities  protesting 
violently  against  the  rule  under  which  it  finds  itself. 
The  doctrine  of  non-intervention  which  is  the  corner- 
stone of  the  American  system  would  be  promptly 
superannuated.  Of  course  such  an  extreme  would 
be  worse  than  silly  or  foolish,  it  would  bring  us  into 
general  reprobation  and  nullify  all  our  influence  for 
good.  Well  then,  what  does  the  administration  mean, 
and  what  do  the  American  people  mean  that  it  should 
mean  ? 

To  the  first  question  the  answer  is  at  hand,  because 
we  were  intermittently  informed  at  shorter  and 
shorter  intervals  that  the  peace  made  after  victory 
was  to  settle  the  primary  and  not  the  secondary  causes 
of  the  war,  and  coordinately  a  determined  effort  was 
made  to  secure  from  the  belligerents  of  western 
Europe  a  statement  of  their  minimum  conditions. 


46o  PEACE  AS  THE  TEST 

The  replies  were  shifty  because  of  secret  treaties  be- 
tween four  powers,  disposing  of  the  Adriatic  shores 
and  the  two  island  groups  in  the  western  Pacific, 
taken  from  Germany  by  Japan;  commanding  strate- 
gic positions,  separately  or  together.  The  answer  to 
the  second  question :  How  far  can  we  go  then  ?  was 
intended  to  be  given  in  the  famous  fourteen  points 
published  by  our  administration.  Is  a  permanent 
parliament  of  nations  to  settle  the  so-called  secondary 
questions;  those  of  nationality,  the  freedom  of  the 
seas,  the  negotiation  of  international  questions  not 
secretly  by  trained  experts,  but  openly  by  popular  rep- 
resentatives ?  How  far  indeed?  And  these  are 
matters  infinitely  more  complex  than  the  primary 
ones,  basic  to  any  enduring  peace,  even  a  two-genera- 
tion peace,  as  we  have  just  had  a  one  generation  period 
of  delicate  equilibrium.  France  asserted  that  she 
did  not  go  to  war  for  the  recovery  of  Alsace-Lorraine 
and  the  protectorate  of  Syria;  she  now  wants  both. 
Great  Britain  entered  the  war,  she  said,  to  protect 
Belgian  neutrality  and  secure  France  from  humiliating 
invasion,  but  in  the  background  is  the  important 
question — Who  shall  control  southeastern  Europe, 
Asia  Minor,  and  the  land  route  to  the  hither  and 
middle  Orient  ?  We  entered  the  war  with  no  thought 
oi  any  other  cause  than  the  preservation  of  our  self- 
respect,  the  upholding  of  justice  in  public  law,  and 
protection  against  aggression.  But  in  our  case,  too, 
there  enters  another  importunate  question.  What 
about  our  rights  on  the  high  seas,  the  freedom  of  all 
the  connecting  straits,  and  quite  the  most  searching 
query  of  all:  The  strategy  of  the  Pacific  Ocean.  To 
be  purely  an  Atlantic-ist  is  not  to  be  American  at  all; 
to  be  purely  a  Pacific-ist  is  equally  nugatory.  Two 
mighty  oceans  wash  our  shores.  In  spite  of  figures 
and  all  possible  evidence  to  the  contrary  our  eastern 
harbors  have  been  and  are  destined  to  be  mainly 


OF  OUR  DEMOCRACY 


461 


importing  entrances  while  the  western  have  the 
manifest  destiny  to  be  exporting  exits  now  and 
throughout  a  long  future. 

The  older  states  of  the  Union  are,  of  course,  the 
most  populous,  so  far;  but  their  populations  are  woe- 
fully heterogeneous;  to  the  extent  of  dire  confusion 
in  times  of  acute  crisis.  What  flood  of  immigration 
flows  into  our  middle  and  western  states  is,  although 
some  discredit  the  idea,  a  filtered  flood.  It  is  the 
eastern  American  who  has  to  take  the  unenterprising 
residuum,  coarsely  ignorant,  totally  inert,  sullen  when 
disturbed,  and  treating  it  chemically  as  it  were,  partly 
by  instruction,  partly  by  suasion,  sometimes  by  the 
strong  arm,  to  set  going  the  reactions,  destroy  the  inhi- 
bitions and  emancipate  human  souls  into  the  environ- 
ment which  millions  have  come  to  call  God's  country. 
Yes  !  the  slums  of  New  York,  or  any  great  city  of  the 
Atlantic  seaboard,  are  an  unknown  and  undiscovered 
country  to  ninety-nine  per  cent  of  our  visitors  and 
fellow  countrymen;  terrible  as  they  are,  they  shine, 
nevertheless,  as  their  full  participation  in  the  war  has 
abundantly  proved,  with  the  light  of  hope,  and  the 
pilgrims  of  our  day  are  indifferent  to  all  else  than  the 
shining  goal.  We  and  ours  i!n  New  York  are  fully 
aware  of  all  our  narrow  provincialism  and  make  no 
excuses.  But  we  are  faithfully  struggling  to  reform; 
we  are  steadily  learning  to  think  nationally  and  the 
existence  of  fifteen  or  more  powerful  nationalistic 
societies  within  our  borders  has  compelled  us  to 
think  internationally,  to  examine  the  vociferous  de- 
mands of  Albanians,  Syrians,  Poles,  Bohemians, 
Ruthenians,  Irish,  Lithuanians,  and  all  the  rest,  for 
sovereign  nationality.  No  true  peace  has  been  made 
because  their  later  tyrauny  is  worse  than  the  former: 
this  is  their  dream.  Our  eyesight  is  confused  enough 
as  we  look  across  the  Atlantic.  If  we  can  clarify  our 
vision  in  that  direction  as  we  are  desperately  engaged 


462  PEACE  AS  THE  TEST 


in  doing,  what  about  our  fellow  citizens  on  the  Pacific 
shores?  What  is  the  direction  in  which  they  look 
and  what  is  pubHc  opinion  on  the  Pacific  Coast 
regarding  the  Pacific  problems? 

These  questions  are  not  academic,  nor  based  on 
mental  fictions.  For  the  eastern  and  middle  states 
the  war  has  already  worked  a  miracle;  their  most 
intelligent  men  and  women  have  poured  through 
every  gateway  westward  across  the  continent,  not  only 
as  pleasure  and  climate  seekers,  but  with  the  fraternal 
interest  in  relatives  of  whom  they  have  had  insufficient 
knowledge,  and  with  whom  they  desire  to  knit  closer 
ties. 

It  can  be  asserted  without  fear  of  contradiction  that 
from  the  Great  Divide  to  the  Atlantic  Coast  de- 
mocracy is  willing  to  study  alike  the  Atlantic  and 
the  Pacific  questions  which  are  still  to  be  settled  dur- 
ing the  trial  years  of  peace ;  still  more  that  it  is  so  occu- 
pied; and  further  yet  that  the  administration  has 
been  under  the  influence  of  a  perfectly  definite  public 
opinion  to  the  efi^ect  that  the  peace  itself  should, 
as  it  did,  cope  only  with  the  ostensible  and  primary 
causes  of  the  war.  Every  element  in  that  vast 
population  of  ours  is  likely  to  be  clarion  clear  in  the 
expression  of  such  an  opinion,  feeling  that  with  the 
victory  and  the  cessation  of  arms,  other  forms  of 
strife  must  not  immediately  threaten  political  peace. 
Social  and  economic  questions  are  matters  for  arbitra- 
tion, as  self-respect  and  self-defense  cannot  be. 

These  questions  of  national  policy  on  the  Pacific 
concern  every  section  of  the  United  States  because 
in  their  settlement  we  are  now  stooping  beneath  such  a 
burden  of  taxation  as  never  before  and  we  have  been 
sending  the  best  young  blood  of  all  the  land  to  risk  pre- 
cious life  for  a  just  cause  which  was  not  national  but 
international  and  world-embracing.  Whence  is  light 
to  come?    "Ex  oriente  lux"  is  an  old,  old  proverb 


OF  OUR  DEMOCRACY  463 


which  in  our  case  may  have  a  double  meaning  and 
prove  misleading.  Let  us  say  at  once  that  for  the 
Pacific  Coast  light  cannot  come  from  the  shores  of  the 
Atlantic  and  say  it  with  offensive  iteration.  But  it 
can  come  from  the  far  east  beyond  the  Pacific,  if  wise 
men  go  to  find  it.  Such  wise  men  there  are  in  com- 
merce, manufactures,  and  banking.  Like  the  Magi 
of  old  they  have  already  fixed  their  eyes  on  the  star 
and  have  made  prosperous  beginning  in  that  inter- 
change of  commodities  which  is  the  soul  of  trade. 

There,  however,  is  a  full  stop ;  we  have  no  sufficient 
body  of  wise  men,  young  or  old,  familiar  with  oriental 
ways  in  politics  and  society,  speaking  the  tongues  of 
the  far  east,  acquainted  with  leading  men,  or  familiar 
with  their  policies,  external  or  internal.  The  first 
line  of  defense  for  any  nation  is  its  diplomacy;  not  the 
old  tortuous,  self-seeking  diplomacy,  but  the  di- 
plomacy of  enlightenment,  intelligence,  and  good  will. 
Our  neighbors  over  the  seas  outstrip  us  far  in  this  re- 
spect. There  is  a  single  American  university  with  an 
association  of  oriental  students  numbering  about  three 
hundred  and  some  others  are  not  far  behind  it.  This 
company  of  men  from  the  east  has  but  one  idea,  to 
search  out  the  secret  of  western  power.  They  learn 
all  European  languages,  they  study  European  and 
American  history,  they  become  proficient  in  all  the 
natural  sciences  pure  and  applied.  Not  to  expand  this 
theme  unduly  where  are  our  young  Americans  doing 
the  corresponding  thing?  We  hazard  the  guess  that 
our  diplomats  transact  substantially  all  their  business 
with  eastern  governments  through  hireling  inter- 
preters whose  statements  they  have  to  accept  with 
no  control,  with  infantile  trust,  and  wide-eyed  credu- 
lity. Would  it  be  asking  much  if  the  merchants  of 
the  Pacific  shore  were  requested  to  combine  and 
found  schools  of  commerce  where  their  successors 
should  learn  eastern  ways  and  establish  travelling 


464  PEACE  AS  THE  TEST 


fellowships  on  which  youth  should  be  sent  to  reside 
for  years  where  those  ways  were  practised  ?  And  the 
American  people  generally  would  like  to  hear  an  im- 
perious clarion  call  from  the  Pacific  communities, 
which  Washington  would  have  to  heed,  for  the  es- 
tablishment both  in  our  diplomatic  and  consular 
service  of  well-equipped  departments  for  the  training 
of  men  to  serve  in  the  great  oriental  countries.  Visit- 
ing our  embassies  and  consular  offices  in  eastern  lands, 
it  is  not  hard  to  discern  why  men  holding  such  posts 
find  themselves  inefficient  to  shamefacedness.  Who 
will  deny  that  most  of  our  diplomatic  establishments 
in  hither  and  farther  east  are  and  long  have  been 
appanages  of  the  well-equipped  European  organiza- 
tions maintained  in  diplomacy  at  every  strategic 
point.  Not  that  our  men  are  servile  but  simply  that 
association  with  the  trained  expert  compels  a  certain 
deference,  always  paid,  however  unconsciously  by 
ignorance  to  knowledge.  Such  a  demand  as  that 
suggested  can  only  be  effectively  made  by  organized 
bodies  of  Pacific  slope  voters;  it  is  the  giving  or  with- 
holding the  vote  which  brings  results. 

The  important  question  in  the  supreme  test  of 
democracy  is  not  what  one  section  of  it  thinks  of  an- 
other, but  what  one  section  compels  the  others  to 
think  about  it.  The  perpetuation  of  peace  is  essen- 
tially a  far  western  task.  The  three  shore  lines  of 
Washington,  Oregon,  and  California  differ  widely, 
one  from  another,  as  do  their  climates  and  the  com- 
posite populations  dwelling  in  their  broad  expanses. 
But  they  have  a  noteworthy  community  of  feeling 
because  they  know  and  feel  instinctively  that  they 
have  a  common  interest.  Besides,  the  population 
is  comparatively  new  in  its  habitat,  and  has  all  the 
advantage  of  unexhausted  resources.  It  is  well  fed, 
well  housed,  and  well  organized,  not  so  numerous  as 
to  be  utterly  unwieldy,  and  for  these  reasons  better 


OF  OUR  DEMOCRACY  465 


fitted  to  create  and  express  a  unified  public  opinion 
than  any  other  part  of  the  country.  They  are  also  de- 
voted students  of  their  origins  and  local  history,  eager 
to  enroll  their  names  in  the  golden  book  of  pioneers, 
exhibiting  in  this  a  quasi-aristocratic  temper  squint- 
ing a  little  with  the  normal  eye  of  democracy.  Yet 
there  is  a  singular  failure  to  study  and  discuss  their 
political  and  economic  geography,  as  it  appears  from 
what  is  their  own  front  door,  as  in  second  line  it  is  the 
front  door  of  the  entire  nation,  because  our  future 
is  on  and  in  and  over  the  Pacific  Ocean. 

From  beyond  the  Atlantic,  Caucasians  have  been 
swarming  into  the  country,  carried  in  foreign  ships, 
expressly  enjoined  by  their  former  home  governments 
to  remain  loyal  to  the  older  in  their  double  citizenship 
and  in  latter  days  entertaining  the  fixed  purpose  to 
win  a  competency  and  return  to  the  land  of  their  birth 
to  enjoy  it.  America's  future  on  the  Atlantic  is  like 
to  be  what  her  past  has  been,  a  scanty  participation  in 
the  lively  interchange  of  relations.  The  geography 
and  strategy  of  the  Atlantic  have  been  studied  with 
unremitting  diligence  for  five  hundred  years;  the 
world  is  only  beginning  with  an  examination  of  the 
Pacific  from  the  political,  economic,  and  strategic 
points  of  view.  Think  of  it,  our  interest  in  Hawaii  was 
due  to  a  false  idea  that  it  would  be  a  mid-ocean  sta- 
tion when  our  isthmian  canal  was  built.  You  feel 
rather  silly  to  discover  that  the  midway  point  of  the 
great  circle  from  Panama  to  Yokohama  is  a  few 
hundred  miles  west  of  San  Francisco.  That  the 
great  Northwest  is  not  a  greater  Northwest  is  due  to 
exactly  similar  ignorance  in  our  ancestors.  Should 
we  not  fear  that  posterity  may  find  itself  in  a  sorry 
plight  owing  to  our  ignorance  and  indifference?  A 
few  only  dimly  conceive  the  strategic  gain  of  Japan 
in  her  quiet  occupation  of  the  Marshall  and  Caroline 
Islands,  directly  athwart  Philippine  trade  routes  to 


466  PEACE  AS  THE  TEST 


the  South  Sea;  and  those  few  have  displayed  precious 
little  interest.  Here  would  be  another  vital  matter 
for  the  consideration  of  the  Pacific  Coast;  and  that 
right  early,  because  though  the  peace  is  made  on 
paper  nothing  is  settled  until  the  pacts  are  sealed 
by  practice.  Another  geographical  trick  question 
finds  its  answer  in  the  fact  that  the  midway  point  on 
the  line  connecting  the  easternmost  and  westernmost 
boundaries  of  our  American  possessions  is  the  city 
of  San  Francisco.  To  most  such  facts  appear  utterly 
trivial,  part  of  a  school-boy  game.  Doubtless  there 
are  many  others  like  them  in  the  heads  of  coast 
dwellers.  But  behold !  ,  these  apparent  trifles  have 
been  the  little  matters  about  which  stupendous  in- 
terests turn. 

How  many  have  examined  a  strategy  map  of  the 
Pacific,  attempting  to  plot  on  a  flat  surface  the  facts 
which  only  appear  correctly  on  that  of  a  globe;  a 
makeshift  if  you  like,  but  flooding  our  defense  prob- 
lem with  a  light  not  seen  by  the  indififerent  ?  The 
Atlantic  defense  of  the  eastern  approach  to  the 
Panama  Canal  is  assured  by  the  recent  events  of  our 
history.  We  assume  the  benevolence  of  Great  Brit- 
ain and  it  has  been  proved;  otherwise  we  would  be 
uneasy  enough  in  her  strong  naval  positions  at  Hali- 
fax and  the  Bermudas,  naval  bases  commanding  the 
most  populous  districts  of  the  country,  with  the  Ba- 
hamas, Jamaica,  St.  Lucia,  Barbadoes,  and  Trinidad 
commanding  the  approaches  of  the  canal  from  the 
east.  But  the  mouth  of  the  canal  itself  is  tactically 
safe  in  its  own  fortifications  inasmuch  as  we  have 
Guantanamo  dominating  Jamaica  and  the  Wind- 
ward Islands,  as  we  now  have  the  Virgin  Islands,  one 
time  Danish,  and  as  above  all  else  we  have  Culebra, 
only  twenty  miles  away.  They  are,  as  Admiral 
Mahan  in  his  book  on  naval  strategy  so  squarely 
asserts,  for  our  control  of  the  Caribbean  exactly  what 


OF  OUR  DEMOCRACY 


467 


Gibraltar  and  Malta  are  for  British  interests  in  the 
Mediterranean  and  the  Isthmus  of  Suez.  Now  the 
focus  of  the  Monroe  Doctrine  is  at  the  Isthmus  of 
Panama  and  how  are  we  situated  on  the  Pacific  side  ? 
If  our  first  line  of  defense  be  diplomacy,  our  second 
is  the  navy.  In  the  diplomacy  of  the  Pacific  shores 
here  and  beyond,  political  and  economic,  we  are 
deplorably  weak  because  we  have  no  men  trained  in 
it  and  no  prospect  of  securing  without  violent  agita- 
tion such  a  branch  of  the  national  defense.  In  the 
naval  strategy  we  are  sorrowfully  weak  likewise  be- 
cause we  have  no  adequate  bases  to  dominate  the 
approaches  to  the  canal  from  the  eastward.  If  you 
take  pains  to  plot  the  Pacific,  especially  on  a  globe, 
you  will  see  how  secondary  is  the  importance  of 
Hawaii  thirteen  hundred  miles  distant  from  the  great 
circle  highway,  how  vital  is  the  strong  fortification 
of  Pearl  Harbor,  and  how  worthless  is  the  famous 
"key  to  the  Pacific,"  Guam,  in  its  present  harborless 
and  defenseless  state,  while  as  you  run  your  eyes 
northward  you  will  discover  that  the  despised  Aleutian 
Islands,  the  anchorage  of  Unalaska  that  is,  and  little 
Tutuila,  far  south  in  Samoa,  have  uses  of  the  first  im- 
portance in  composing  our  strategic  system  on  the 
Pacific.  Whatever  power  secures  the  protectorate 
of  the  Marshalls  and  Carolines  with  mastery  in  the 
Shantung  peninsula,  that  power  will  neutralize  the 
value  of  the  Philippines  for  us,  isolate  the  Dutch  colo- 
nies, and  erect  an  impassable  barrier  between  Australia 
and  both  American  and  Canadian  ports.  Both  San 
Francisco  Bay  and  Puget  Sound  are  unsurpassable 
possessions,  but  the  great  navy  forces  of  the  Pacific 
still  in  consideration  would  never  collide  in  their 
vicinity;  they  would  look  helplessly  on  while  the  fate 
of  the  Pacific  was  decided  thousands  of  miles  away  in 
the  struggle  for  the  key  bases  of  the  navy,  all  far 
nearer  to  the  Asiatic  shore  than  to  the  town  of 


468  PEACE  AS  THE  TEST 


Panama.  Great  fleets  never  in  history  have  fought 
in  mid-ocean;  every  naval  decision  has  been  reached 
almost  within  sight  of  a  naval  base. 

Distrust  and  strife  spring  from  incertitude  and 
unpreparedness.  And,  alas !  there  can  be  no  per- 
petuation of  the  peace  so  painfully  negotiated  with- 
out a  fair  distribution  of  advantages  and  with  the 
power  to  maintain  it.  There  is  no  irony  when  we 
announce  our  trust  in  the  benevolence  of  the  Pacific 
powers,  Japan  and  Great  Britain;  nor  when  we 
roundly  asseverate  as  we  do,  that  the  exclusion  of 
Germany  from  the  Pacific  sphere  is  not  merely  to  their 
interest  and  ours,  but  to  that  of  the  world,  including 
Germany  itself,  among  whose  beneficent  gifts  are 
not  those  of  dealing  with  backward  peoples;  no,  we 
are  sincere  in  such  assertions.  The  world  war  has 
exhibited  the  interdependence  of  nations  in  a  light  at 
once  most  humiliating  and  most  encouraging.  With 
those  men  remaining  in  office,  who  have  passed 
through  the  furnace,  trust  and  sincerity  in  foreign 
relations  will  for  the  period  of  their  lives  reign  su- 
preme. But  they  will  pass  and  their  generation; 
rivalry  will  begin  again;  and  what  is  to  prevent  the 
quick  return  to  the  sorry  strife  of  the  nineteenth  and 
early  twentieth  centuries,  with  fencing  and  tricking, 
self-seeking  and  overawing,  as  once  more  the  dominat- 
ing influence  over  international  law  ?  Two  things, 
perhaps,  and  one  certainly,  can  forestall  such  a  dis- 
aster. A  democracy  fit  for  the  world,  without  which 
there  can  be  no  world  fit  for  democracy,  is  one  of  them ; 
primarily,  however,  a  square  deal  as  basic  to  the 
other  forms  of  democratic  equality.  The  Americans 
of  the  Pacific  can  study  the  problem  of  the  square 
deal  in  the  Pacific  far  better  than  the  rest  of  us.  It 
is  not  theirs  to  say,  as  sometimes  the  thoughtless  do, 
that  their  fellow  citizens  of  the  Atlantic  have  seized 
so  much  there  is  little  left.    There  is  plenty  left, 


OF  OUR  DEMOCRACY  469 


of  common  sense,  of  patriotic  fellow-feeling  and  of 
hard  cash  in  the  United  States  Treasury,  plenty  to 
accomplish  every  task  peculiar  to  the  Pacific,  each 
and  all  of  those  enumerated;  the  diplomacy,  com- 
mercial and  political,  the  physiography,  and  the  naval 
strategy  of  the  mightiest  of  mighty  oceans. 

Whose  affair  is  this?  That  of  the  whole  nation; 
and  we  are  solemnly  bound,  all  of  us,  to  think  na- 
tionally and  internationally.  First  of  all,  however, 
sectionally  I  fear,  human  nature  being  what  it  is. 
Coming  and  going  throughout  the  various  western  re- 
gions of  the  United  States  almost  every  passing  inti- 
macy of  the  traveller  begins  with  this  query:  What 
does  the  east  really  think  of  us  ?  And  why  have  they 
so  neglected  to  cultivate  our  intimacy,  learn  our  wants, 
and  make  us  feel  more  like  Americans,  than,  let  us 
say,  Texans  or  Californians.  No  doubt  the  retort  is 
impertinent  on  the  whole;  but  some  pertinence  there 
is  in  it:  What  does  the  west  want,  does  it  know? 
And,  if  it  knows,  why  does  it  not  cry  aloud  and 
compel  attention?  Wandering  "children  taking 
notes"  both  south  and  west  are  at  times  lost  for 
guidance  because  they  find  the  hall  porter  of  the 
American  national  mansion  apparently  more  interested 
in  the  delivery  wagons  at  the  back  door  than  in  the 
front  door  which  he  is  set  to  keep.  We  search  through 
the  press  in  vain  and  ransack  the  minds  of  friends  in 
vain  to  secure  a  categorical  statement  of  Gulf  or 
Pacific  opinion,  not  regarding  the  Atlantic,  that  is 
clear  enough;  but  regarding  the  needs  and  duties  of 
the  western  or  southern  shore  of  our  continental 
domain. 

Representative  government  is  the  best  expression 
of  democracy  so  far  discovered.  But  the  representa- 
tive is  too  often  a  fallible  man  of  small  calibre.  Es- 
pecially so  if  he  is  to  represent  the  majority.  Arrived 
in  Washington  he  comes  under  the  spell  of  power  at 


470  PEACE  AS  THE  TEST 


the  seat  of  power.  However  he  got  his  seat,  he  must 
represent  the  whole  country,  a  large  order:  and  hav- 
ing both  salary  and  honor  as  emolument,  the  hours 
fly  in  a  pleasant  way  until  the  question  obsesses 
him,  How  am  I  going  to  keep  this  delightful  place 
and  be  reelected  ?  He  has  little  time  for  the  study 
of  larger  problems  in  statesmanship  because  the  com- 
mon voter  is  his  instant  concern.  Perhaps  it  is  just 
as  well  so,  but  the  point  of  our  contention  is  that 
neither  from  the  local  press  nor  from  men  in  congress 
has  come,  or  is  coming,  the  revelation  so  ardently 
desired  by  those  who  do  cooperate  in  the  weeklies, 
monthlies,  and  trade  press  to  mould  the  public  opinion 
on  the  Atlantic  shores  in  the  Mississippi  valley  and 
on  the  Pacific  Coast.  Only  the  merchants,  manu- 
facturers, and  professional  classes  can  do  the  self- 
searching  and  bring  about  the  self-realization  which 
will  put  any  section  to  its  threefold  work:  local, 
national,  and  international,  which  will  clarify  its 
opinion,  specify  its  demands,  and  give  its  reasonable 
voice  that  weight  of  truth  which  secures  results  with- 
out humiliating  mendicancy.  Indeed,  in  Roman 
phrase,  the  work  must  begin  at  once  and  "glow" 
if  results  useful  in  preserving  the  peace  are  to  be 
ready.  It  is  only  thus  that  a  democracy,  so  ad- 
vanced socially  and  locally  can  prove  that  it  is 
equally  advanced  politically  and  nationally,  equally 
poignant  and  convincing  when  dealing  with  the 
larger  and  largest  elements  of  world  policy. 


INDEX 


INDEX 


Abdul  Hamid,  system  of,  39s;  over- 
throw of,  408 

Ability,  practical,  131 

Absolutism,  46,  51,  i4S>  247;  and  the 
nation,  163;  rise  and  growth  of,  205; 
in  the  Middle  Ages,  236;  in  England, 
254;  and  American  colonies,  256 

Acton,  Lord,  79 

Aesthetics,  care  of,  left  to  state,  138,  139 
Africa,  a  German,  426;  question  of  na- 
tionality in,  439 
Agitation,  constitutional,  65;  right  of, 
82,  83 

Agnostic  philosophy,  195 

Agricultural  trusts,  70 

Agriculture,  and  feudalism,  239 

Aleutian  Islands,  the,  467 

Alexander  the  Great,  221,  231 

Alexander  I,  Czar,  354,  417 

Algeciras,  Conference  of,  404 

Alliances,  popular  participation  in  mak- 
ing of  foreign,  377 

Allies,  the,  peace  terms  of,  447 

Alsace-Lorraine,  the  question  of,  160, 
419,  421,  422 

Ambition,  and  equality,  86 

America.    See  United  States 

American,  artistic  genius,  135;  self- 
depreciation,  134;  self-knowledge, 
134.  13s,  457 

American  colonies,  Tories  and  Whigs  in, 
so;  free-thinkers  in,  50,  51;  charters 
in,  S3;  conservatives  and  liberals  in, 
S3;  religious  and  civil  equality  of, 
54>  55;  rights  of,  54;  representation 
in,  68;  theocracy  in,  195 

American  Revolution,  the,  248,  254-257 

Amiens,  Treaty  of,  367 

Amphyctionic  Council,  the,  330,  366 

Anarchy,  5,  7,  217,  305;  and  the  war,  8; 
menace  of,  286;  so-called  ideals  of, 
308;  in  Russia,  314 

Anglas,  Boissy  d',  107 

Anglicanism,  45 

Anglo-Saxon  race,  164 

Anhalt,  violation  of  neutrality  of,  150 

Anthropologists,  theories  of,  27 

Antigone,  40 

Apes,  and  men,  26,  27 

Aquinas,  Thomas,  teaching  of,  43,  44, 
190,  191,  194,  337 

Arabs,  240,  406,  439 

Arbitration,  International,  ideal  of  pub- 
licity in,  376,  377 


Aristocracy,  In  a  democracy,  58;  de- 
mocratic, in  France,  79;  American, 
90;  in  warfare,  147 

Aristotle,  185,  272,  281;  his  doctrine  of 
man,  26,  28,  141,  184,  325,  337;  his 
doctrine  of  natural  right,  40,  42;  on 
man  and  the  state,  201 ;  the  apostle  of 
war,  330 

Armenians,  406 

Armies,  standing,  76,  366 

Army,  American,  in  Civil  War,  148 

Arnold,  287 

Arts,  fine,  new  birth  of,  in  Middle  Ages, 
241 

Aryan  race,  164;  and  religious  belief, 

161;  and  monogamous  family,  203 
Asia,  social  condition  in,  221;  policing 

of,  412;  question  of  nationality  in, 

439;  a  German,  426 
Asia  Minor,  question  of  control  in,  chief 

cause  of  war,  407,  408 
Asquith,  422 
Assyria,  220 

Athenian,  the,  a  model  citizen,  98,  99 
Athens,  empire  of,  29;  decline  of,  98, 

99;  a  polls,  159 
Atlantic  seaboard  of  the  United  States, 

460,  et  seg. 
Augustan  Age,  the,  Roman  concept  of 

peace  in,  331 
Augustine,  teaching  of,  43 
Austin,  ig6 

Australia,  public  lands  of,  270 
Austria-Hungary,  257,  314,  354,  437; 
in  war,  129;  dual  monarchy  of,  156, 
157;  a  nation  by  dynasty,  164;  social- 
ism in,  312;  nationalization  in,  389; 
alliance  of,  with  Germany,  395,  396, 
401;  incorporation  of  Balkan  prov- 
inces by,  408,  409 
Authority,  doctrine  of  divine  origin  of, 
194,  19s;  national,  considered  as  an 
evil,  19s;  unificarion  of,  in  Middle 
Ages,  236 

Autocracy,  5,  6;  democratized,  74,  383 
Babylonia,  220 

Bakunin,  anarchistic  doctrines  of,  295, 

308;  his  "Dieu  et  I'Etat,"  308 
Balfour,  414 

Balkan  States,  nationalities  in,  370; 
wars  of,  395;  situation  in,  a  cause  of 
war,  406-410;  and  the  Peace  Confer- 


473 


474 


INDEX 


ence,  420,  4s  1;  the  question  of  the, 

4tg,  428,  429 
Ballot,  the  complicated,  70,  8s 
Baltic  States,  destruction  of  Teutonism 

in,  400 

Bankruptcy  laws  in  the  United  States, 
317 

Bancroft,  54;  his  estimate  of  Calvin,  244 

Barclay,  influence  of  pacifism  of,  339 

Barons,  English,  alliance  of,  with  bur- 
gesses, 252 

Basques,  240 

Beaconsfield,  415 

Bedouin,  tribes  of,  181 

Bentham,  Jeremy,  214,  334;  plan  of,  for 
perpetual  peace,  343-346,  363,  382 

Belgium,  364;  violation  of  neutrality 
of,  408;  and  the  London  conference, 
417;  rehabilitation  of,  421 

Berlin,  failures  of  Congress  of,  414,  415, 
418,  419;  Treaty  of,  362, 367,  396, 408 

Bible-in-the  schools  question,  170 

BiUs  of  rights,  in  the  American  colonies,  55 

Biologists,  and  origin  of  man,  25;  and 
natural  law,  212,  213 

Bishop's  Question,  the,  50 

Bismarck,  state  socialism  of,  310;  and 
German  unity,  354,  373;  and  alliance 
with  Austria-Hungary,  395,  396;  his 
attitude  toward  colonies  and  imperial- 
ism, 400,  401 

Blanc,  Louis,  292 

BluntschH,  201 

Bodin,  Jean,  and  political  sovereignty, 

46,  192 
Bohemia,  436 

Bolshevism,  creed  of,  15,  16;  in  Russia, 
449 

Bondage,  interest  of  common,  222; 
forms  of,  and  physical  geography,  225 

Books  on  political  subjects,  170,  171 

Bosnia-Herzegovina,  annexed  by  Aus- 
tria-Hungary, 408,  409 

Boss,  the  political,  23,  64,  70,  80,  126, 
443.  444.  4S8 

Bossuet,  339 

Boundaries,  national,  160,  165,  263 
Bourbons,  absolutism  of  the,  46 
Bourgeoisie,  the,  294-296,  298 
Bourgoing,  351 
Brazil,  245 

Brentano,  Lujo,  99,  100 
Bribery,  place,  143 

British  nation,  the,  158.  See  Great 
Britain 

Brown,  Robert,  and  Puritan  revolution, 
47 

Brownson,  195 
Brunetiere,  325 
Bryce,  James,  105 

Buckle,  173;  and  influence  of  the  land. 

261,  262 
Bulgaria,  437 


Bureaucracy,  a  menace  to  democracy, 
89;  of  France,  129;  of  Germany,  129, 
4°S.  43S;  of  Russia,  129 

Burke,  201 

Byzantine  empire,  the,  relation  of  state 
and  church  in,  231 

Caesarism,  98,  106 
Calhoun,  69 

Calif  ates,  the,  depositories  of  knowledge, 

239 

California,  122 

Calvin,  and  theocracy,  45;  influence  of, 
on  politics,  46,  244;  Bancroft's 
estimate  of,  244 

Calvinism,  theocracy  of,  45,  195;  poli- 
tical, 2io;  influence  of,  on  politics, 
243.  244 

Calvinists,  and  Puritan  revolution,  47; 

theocracy  of,  45,  19s 
Cambon,  Paul,  404 

Canada,  public  lands  of,  270;  question 

of  annexation  of,  392 
Capacity,  development  of  human,  177 
Capital,  sacrifices  of,  u8;  and  labor, 

297-302;  and  the  war,  386 
Caracalla,  185 

Caribbean,  the,  American  control  of,  466 
Cariyle,  437 

Caroline  Islands,  Japan's  occupation  of, 

46s.  467 
Carthage,  not  a  true  nation,  229 
Carthaginian  oligarchy,  the,  229 
Caste,  system  of,  in  ancient  East,  227 
Cathari,  the,  pacifism  of,  332 
Catholic  church.   See  Roman  Catholic 

church 

Caucasians,  in  the  United  States,  465 

Cavaignac,  292 

Central  America,  369,  386 

Ceylon,  joint-families  of,  181,  204 

Chaldea,  respect  for  property  in,  36 

Charity  and  democracy,  60;  radical 

views  about,  119;  sums  paid  to,  in 

the  United  States,  317;  institutions 

of,  368;  extinction  of,  444 
Charlemagne,  233;  division  of  empire 

of,  160 

Charters,  in  American  colonies,  S3 
Chartist  movement,  the,  293 
Chemistry,  30 

China,  220;  a  patriarchy,  29;  demo- 
cratic temper  of,  75,  106;  in  war,  145; 
theocracy  of,  182;  population  of,  277; 
natural  resources  of,  282,  388;  idea 
of  peace  in  early,  329;  nationahties 
in,  370 

Choice,  right  of,  as  basis  to  spiritual  Ufe, 
43;  personal,  in  the  vote,  57;  in  the 
city-state,  183 
Christian  socialists,  3,  294,  307-309 
Christianity,  and  right  of  choice,  43; 
and  equality,  75;  and  the  state,  93; 


INDEX 


475 


democratic,  p4;  influence  of,  i86- 
igo;  in  Middle  Ages,  1Q4;  in  Byzan- 
tium, 230-232;  and  the  individual, 
233;  and  Teutonic  spirit,  233,  243; 
practical,  278;  true  ideals  of ,  308, 3og ; 
doctrine  of  peace  of,  331,  332 

Church,  popular  sovereignty  in,  44; 
separation  of,  from  state,  47,  187-iQO, 
249,  250,  332;  and  equality,  75;  na- 
tionalization of,  76;  authority  of, 
overthrown,  93,  94;  universal,  hostile 
to  nation,  188,  189;  and  state  in 
Byzantium,  231;  feudalism  in,  237, 
238;  in  the  Middle  Ages,  242;  and 
state  in  modern  nation,  249,  250; 
and  state  in  Europe,  394;  and  state 
in  the  United  States,  444 

Cicero,  40,  42,  185,  201 

City,  the,  irresistible  lure  of,  135,  136 

City  government,  disregard  of  demo- 
cratic devices  in,  71;  new  forms  of, 
144 

Citizens,  good,  and  good  government, 
83,  260;  Athenians,  model,  98,  99; 
Greek  and  Roman  ideal  of,  182;  in 
Middle  Ages,  190 

Citizenship,  32;  Roman,  185 

City-state,  the,  of  Greece  and  Rome,  29, 
182-187,  229,  230;  embryo  of  democ- 
racy in,  37-40;  stage  of  tyranny  in, 
38,  39;  historic  development  of,  182, 
183;  organic  constitution  of,  i86;  the 
successor  of,  187;  a  federation  of 
tribes,  204;  of  the  Orient,  228,  229 

Civil  War,  the  American,  131,  132,  142, 
147,  148,  ISO,  266 

Civil  service,  a  menace  to  democracy, 
88,  89 

Civil  expenditures,  87,  89 
Civil  rights,  85-87 
Civilized  war,  32 

Classes,  social,  of  the  United  States, 
208-210;  in  19th  century,  291  el  seq.; 
no  rigid,  303-305 

Cloots,  Anacharsis,  351 

Collectivism,  271,  436 

Colonies,  of  Great  Britain,  73,  74;  and 
democracy,  74;  Bismarck's  attitude 
toward,  400,  401;  the  question  of,  at 
the  Peace  Conference,  425,  426.  See 
also  American  colonies 

Colonization,  European,  245,  246,  383, 
400 

Columbus,  240 

Commerce,  in  Middle  Ages,  240 
Commission  form  of  government,  71, 144 
Commons,  English  House  of,  253 
Communism,  271,  272,  305 
Community,  and  the  individual,  28,  29; 
condition  antecedent  to  man,  32;  the 
ideal,  directive  not  coercive,  207,  216, 
218 


Community-will,  the  foundation  of 
power,  52 

Compulsion,  and  radical  democracy, 

120,  121 
Concordats,  93 
Condorcet,  342 
Confucius,  176 

Congress,  the  representative  in,  4O9, 
470;  decision  of,  in  Mormon  case, 
215,  216 

Conquest,  authority,  basis  of,  222 
Conscience,  and  the  Roman  law,  40,  41 ; 

the  social,  117-119,  123-125,  130,  214 
Conservatism,  122;  in  America,  53;  and 

war,  146 

Constantine,  system  of,  for  church  and 

state,  230,  231 
Constantinople,  239,  440 
Constitution  of  the  United  States,  the, 

131,  169,  170,  258,  259 
Constitutions,  and  their  function,  65,  66, 

2S8 

Contract  theory  of  government,  33,  51, 
192;  attacks  on,  54;  originator  of,  igi ; 
various  forms  of,  196-198,  338;  rea- 
sons for  its  discredit,  198 

Corea,  378 

Corporations,  awakened  conscience  in, 
118;  protected  by  the  state,  310,  311 

Coulanges,  Fustel  de,  his  "La  Cite 
Antique,"  37 

Covenanters,  Scottish,  48 

Crime,  nation  an  organization  to  sup- 
press, 199 

Crises,  discipline  and  dictatorship  in, 

96-98 
Croatia,  409,  438 
Croix,  De  la,  334 
Cromwell,  47-4Q.  I4S,  i47,  363 
Cross-bow,  invention  of  the,  377,  378 
Cruce,  Emeric,  outline  of  peace  plan  of, 

334,  33S;  his  "Le  Nouveau  Cynee," 

334 

Cuba,  intervention  in,  5,  74,  369;  and 

sugar  trust,  386 
Culebra,  466 

Cultural  forces,  and  the  state,  138,  139 
Culture,  a  national,  124,  125 
Custom,  community  of,  161,  162 
Cynics,  the,  teaching  of,  184,  212,  330 

Dano-Prussian  war,  159 

Dante,  teaching  of,  190 

Darwin,  dualistic  hypothesis  of,  24-27 

Declaration  of  Independence,  the,  212 

Declaration  of  rights,  a,  65 

Declaratory  Act,  the,  of  George  III, 

33.  S3 
Defoe,  211 

Degeneracy,  state  protection  against, 
280,  281 

Deistic  conception  of  government,  148, 
149 


476 


INDEX 


Delcasse,  Theodore,  the  new  France 
personified  in,  403,  404;  dismissal  of, 
403,  407 

Delegates,  method  of  choosing,  69 

Demagogues,  7,  63,  85 

Democracies,  three  imperial,  73,  74 

Democracy,  natural  history  of,  21  et 
seq.]  question  concerning,  21;  defini- 
tion of  22,  56,  78;  etymology  of,  22; 
ideals  of,  22,  35,  78;  an  oligarchy,  23; 
as  a  sovereignty,  23,  24;  inefficiency 
and  extravagance  of,  24,  316;  evolu- 
tion of,  34,  35;  in  history,  36  et  seq.; 
the  embryo  of,  37-40;  gain  to,  from 
Roman  doctrines  of  law,  41,  42;  Puri- 
tan revolution  and  modem,  47;  an 
effort  to  express  popular  will  in  action, 
S6;  institutions  of,  57  el  seq.;  aris- 
tocratic elements  in,  $&;  manners  of 
pure,  58;  its  organs  in  war  and  in 
peace,  58,  59;  most  expensive  form 
of  government,  59-61,  87,  89,  372; 
a  direct,  61-63;  stagnation  in  a  small, 
61,  62;  and  party  leaders,  61-63; 
dark  sides  of  non-representative,  62; 
restraints  on  abuse  of  popular  sover- 
eignty in  a,  63 ;  devices  of,  67  et  seq. ; 
representation  and  suffrage,  checks  on 
pure,  70-72;  men  and  systems  in,  72, 
83,  84;  remedy  for  evils  of,  72;  im- 
perial policy  of,  73,  74;  what  consti- 
tutes complete,  74;  proudest  boast  of, 
7S;  and  the  church,  76;  formula  and 
terms  of,  77  et  seq.;  sovereignty  and 
evolution  of,  77,  78;  authority  of,  82; 
system  of,  dependent  on  majority,  83; 
equahty  of,  84;  inequality  in,  85-91; 
menaces  to,  88,  89,  92  et  seq.;  true, 
a  state  of  mind,  91  et  seq.;  a  chameleon 
in  its  hues,  91 ;  tyranny  of,  98,  99, 1 1 6, 
121,  126;  in  Germany,  99-105;  and 
external  forces,  103;  gains  of,  109  et 
seq.;  makes  for  purity  and  mildness, 
112;  direct  radical,  1 18-126;  and 
efficiency,  127  et  seq.,  454  et  seq.; 
medium  of  modern  life,  127,  128;  in 
war,  130  et  seq.,  145  et  seq.,  361,  435; 
artistic  genius  of,  135;  forms  of  social 
order  in  evolution  of,  149;  abnegation 
of  extremes  in,  iji;  and  the  nation, 
JSSet  seq.;  and  parliamentary  system, 
256;  and  American  constitution,  259; 
dependent  on  enlightened  citizenship, 
260;  supreme  power  in,  264;  taxation 
and  extravagance  in  federal,  316;  high 
cost  of  living  in  federal,  317;  essen- 
tially pacifist,  361;  mobilization  in  a, 
for  conduct  of  war,  383;  and  league 
of  nations,  420;  and  war  of  191 4,  427; 
unsettled  conceptions  of,  443;  peace 
as  test  of,  454  et  seq.;  efficiency  of 
American,  454  e/ if^.;  public  opinion 
in  a,  458 


Denmark,  as  a  nation,  iS9,'i6o;  guaran- 
tee of  integrity  of,  417 
Despotism,  in  ancient  East,  222-228 
Diderot,  343 
Diogenee,  184 

Diplomacy,  American  success  in,  133, 
134;  secret,  369;  ideal  of  pubHcity 
in,  377 ;  first  line  of  defense  for  nation, 
463 

Discipline,  with  numbers,  123 
Discontent,  virtuous,  118 
Divine  origin  of  government,  36 
Divine  right,  in  the  papacy,  44,  46,  93, 
194;  of  kings,  49,  149,  190,  249,  363; 
of  the  people,  149;  in  ancient  East, 
222;  and  feudahsm,  234,  235 
Divorce  laws  in  the  United  States,  dis- 
crepancies in,  317 
Domestic  rights,  expansion  of,  92,  93 
Draper,  his  "Civil  Polity,"  200,  201 
Dual  Alliance,  the  396 
Dual  Monarchy,  the,  409,  428 
Dualistic  hypothesis,  the,  24-27 
Durant,  332 

Duty,  28,  29;  to  God  and  neighbor,  43; 
of  suffrage,  79;  and  rights,  95,  214; 
new  views  about,  119;  and  liberty, 
138;  public  and  personal,  175, 176 

Dynasty,  the,  use  of,  in  history,  163,  164 

East,  the  ancient.   See  Orient 

Ecclesiastical  wars,  332 

Economic,  history  and  problems  of 
peace,  385;  peace,  question  of,  427, 
428;  transformation,  and  the  Protes- 
tant Reformation,  245;  unity,  in  a 
nation,  163,  165 

Economy,  political,  175,  311-313 

Edmunds  Act,  the,  215,  216 

Education,  for  participation  in  politics 
and  society,  81,  125;  lavish  distribu- 
tion of  higher,  87,  88;  dangers  in 
quality  of  teaching  and  expansion  of 
courses,  113-115;  secularized,  170; 
and  the  nation,  217;  state  action 
regarding,  289;  in  Germany,  los 

Edward  III,  68 

Edward  VII,  new  Britain  personified  in, 
403,  404 

Efficiency,  of  democracy,  127  el  seq., 
454  et  seq. 

Egypt,  220;  respect  for  property  in,  36; 
democratic  elements  in,  74;  changes 
of  power  in  ancient,  74 
Eisenach,  congress  of  professors  at,  312 
Election,  of  representatives  and  dele- 
gates, 69 
Elections,  money  cost  of,  59,  80 
Electoral  college,  American,  258 
Elizabeth,  Queen,  her  "Great  Design," 

333.  413.  446 
Emigration,  character  of,  283;  reform 
in  rules  of,  needed,  285 


INDEX 


477 


Empire,  five  ideals  of,  358 
Empirics,  national,  178 
Empiricism,  123 
Engels,  295 

England,  absolutism  in,  46;  Puritan 
revolution  in,  47;  restoration  and 
reform  of  1688  in,  48;  revolution  of 
1688  in,  48,  54;  Puritan  revival  of 
18th  century  in,  48,  40;  democracy 
in,  121;  community  of  custom  in, 
162;  political  thinking  in,  171;  agri- 
cultural laborers  in,  239;  Protestant 
Reformation  in,  244;  and  coloniza- 
tion, 246;  baron-burgess  alliance  in, 
252;  introduction  of  representation 
into,  232-254;  origin  of  House  of 
Commons  in,  253;  device  of  political 
parties  in,  253,  254;  land  tenure  in, 
268;  landlordism  and  small  holdings 
in,  169;  feudalism  of,  269;  social 
reforms  in,  287,  293,  294;  socializa- 
tion in,  293,  294,  383;  labor  evils  in, 
299;  Christian  socialists  of ,  307 ;  the 
poor-laws  of,  309,  310;  socialism  of 
the  chair  in,  312.  See  also  Great 
Britain 

English,  constitution,  216,  258;  revolu- 
tion of  1688,  14s,  164,  171,  248,  252; 
reform  bill,  first,  56 

Entente,  the,  400;  secrecy  of,  404; 
terms  of,  40s,  406 

Equality,  of  democracy,  3s,  84,  85;  in 
Egypt  and  Chaldea,  37;  taught  by 
Seneca,  40;  and  Christianity,  43,  44; 
religious  and  civil,  in  American 
colonies,  54,  SS!  new  ideas  about, 
1 18-120;  of  opportunity,  121;  and 
radical  democracy,  121;  and  humani- 
tarian Uberty,  141;  Lincoln's  ideal 
of,  142;  in  ancient  Greece  and  Rome, 
186,  330;  in  ancient  Orient,  223;  of 
states,  theory  of,  365;  new  definitions 
of,  388 

Equity,  no  advance  without,  34;  the 

basis  of,  41 
Erasmus,  333 

Ethics,  political  and  personal,  17s,  176 
Euphrates,  valley  of  the,  despotism  and 

religious  awe  in,  222,  223 
Europe,  triumph  of  democracy  pre- 
vented in,  S3;  theories  discussed  and 
elaborated  in,  53;  reaction  in,  con- 
sequent on  American  bills  of  rights, 
55;  divided  into  free  governments, 
56;  representative  government  in, 
67,  68;  mcdiceval,  75,  14s,  233  el  seq.; 
transformation  of  state  system  of, 
133;  in  a  measure  American,  137; 
colonization  epoch  in,  24s,  246,  383, 
400;  Roman  and  Teutonic  branches 
of  state  system  of,  247,  248;  doctrine 
of  state-interference  in,  279;  con- 
gestion of  population  in,  282;  forma- 


tion of  federal  republics  in,  317; 
public  law  of,  transformed,  362;  and 
seven  epochs  of  international  law, 
363;  religious  rivalries  in,  394;  self- 
government  of  states  of,  370;  ques- 
tion of  control  in  southeastern,  chief 
cause  of  the  war,  408;  reconstruction 
of  map  of,  411,  412,  415-419,  428,  429; 
passion  for  nationality  in,  a  menace 
to  peace,  456;  subject  peoples  of, 
447;  small  neutral  states  of,  448 
Exclusiveness,  86 

Extravagance,  of  democratic  govern- 
ment, 24,  59-61,  87,  89,  361,  373 

Fable  of  the  fish,  127 

Family,  the,  primitive,  28;  monogamic, 
29.  30.  02,  202,  203;  abnormal  ex- 
pansion of,  29;  levelling  influences  in, 
92,  93;  parallel  to,  in  business,  95; 
new  views  about,  120;  survivals  of 
joint,  181,  182,  204;  derivation  of  the 
state  from,  198,  199;  earliest  form  of 
society,  202,  203 ;  in  ancient  Oriental 
monarchies,  221;  and  feudalism,  237 

Far  East,  Japan  and  Czardom  in,  362. 
See  also  Orient 

Farm  loans,  274 

Federation  of  tribes,  204;  of  nations, 
217 

F6nelon,  peace  movement  in  French 
literature  begun  by,  339 

Feudalism,  of  the  church,  75,  76,  237,238; 
only  political  system  of  Middle  Ages, 
i8g;  in  the  state,  234-237;  and  divine 
right,  234,  235;  effect  of,  feudalizing 
of  empire,  234,  235;  social  organism 
of,  205,  235-237;  in  cities,  formal 
and  incomplete,  238;  oppressor  of 
agricultural  laborers,  239;  and  en- 
largement of  poHtical  units,  241,  242; 
at  beginning  of  modern  state,  249; 
in  England,  252,  268,  269;  and  war, 
324 

Fichte,  teaching  of,  3SI-3S3.  355 

Filanghieri,  288 

Finland,  Teutonism  in,  400 

Finns,  449,  450 

Fiume,  Italian  claim  to,  428 

Fleury,  Cardinal,  341 

Florence,  seven  famous  men  of,  241 

Force,  as  sanction  of  conduct,  77,  78, 
120;  theory  of, "and  the  nation,  196; 
moral,  stronger  than  physical,  359, 
360;  mind  triumphant  over  brute,  371 

Fourier,  292,  351 

France,  democracy  of,  55,  56,  73,  107, 
108,  128;  elections  in,  69;  party 
government  in,  71;  democratic  aris- 
tocracy in,  79;  the  two  Terrors  in,  8j; 
in  war,  129;  efficiency  of,  129,  130; 
bureaucracy  of,  129,  130;  offices  and 
tases  in,  132,  133;  wars  of  radical 


478 


INDEX 


democracy  in,  148;  nationality  in, 
158;  and  French-speaking  peoples, 
160;  a  nation  by  dynasty,  164;  tiie 
Reformation  in,  244;  and  coloniza- 
tion, 24s,  369,  396;  nearest  approach 
to  an  organized  socialism,  257;  social- 
ism in,  291-295,  383;  socialism  of  the 
chair  in,  312;  insurrection  of  June  26, 
1848  in,  292,  293;  feudal  absolutism 
of,  299;  and  treaty  of  Utrecht,  340; 
radicalism  in,  351,  383;  expansionist 
policy  of,  before  the  war,  369;  ques- 
tion of  kind  of  government  for,  372; 
and  popular  participation  in  inter- 
national arbitration,  376;  destruction 
of  churches  of  the  KremUn  by,  387; 
conquests  of,  under  Napoleon,  388; 
and  Italy,  396,  403,  404;  annexation 
of  Tunis  by,  396;  and  the  Entente, 
400;  terms  of  Entente  concerning, 
40s,  406;  awakening  of  new  spirit  in, 
403,  404;  secret  diplomacy  of,  404; 
internal  politics  and  foreign  relations 
of,  408;  claim  of  Alsace-Lorraine, 
421,  422,  460;  and  German  colonies, 
425;  object  of,  in  war  of  1914- 
1Q18,  433 
Franco-Prussian  War,  293 
Fraternity,  and  democracy,  84 
Freedom,  derivation  and  use  of  the 
word,  79;  a  democracy  not,  83;  and 
servitude,  138;  Rousseau's  doctrine 
of,  SI 

Free  man,  ultimate  fact  in  social  evolu- 
tion, 30s 

Freemen,  embryo  of  democracy  among, 
38;  and  validity  of  laws,  42;  and  cul- 
ture, 124,  125 

Free-thinkers  of  the  18th  century,  4; 
and  the  city-states,  39;  in  American 
colonies,  50;  in  France,  71,  107 

Free-thinking,  growth  of,  in  the  United 
States,  314 

Free  trade,  428 

French  Convention,  the,  263 

French,  democracy  and  its  influence,  55, 
56;  doctrines  of  sovereignty,  46;  liter- 
ature, peace  movement  in  340;  litera- 
ture, view  of  warfare  in,  327,  328; 
Republic,  158 

French  Revolution,  the,  145,  164,  170, 
179,  197.  248,  257,  291,  354 

Gaius,  school  of,  41 

Gardiner,  his  "Cromwell's  Place  in 

History,"  49 
Gargantua,  150 
Gebel,  228 

Geneva,  absolutism  in,  46;  the  Reforma- 
tion in,  244 
Genius,  American  artistic,  135 
Cientlemen's  agreements,  63,  405 
Gcntz,  416 


George  III,  Declaratory  Statute  of,  53; 
an  absolute  monarch,  178 

Geographical  unity  and  nationality,  160 

German,  idea  of  liberty,  99-102;  ascen- 
dancy, first  phase  of,  396;  emigration, 
426;  mind,  398;  philosophers,  34s  et 
seq.;  state,  103,  104 

German  Empire,  creation  of,  103,  104; 
government  of,  157;  warning  of,  165; 
force  theory  proclaimed  by,  196; 
a  jural  nation,  210;  state  and  church 
in,  394.    See  also  Germany 

German  Imperial  Council,  69 

Germany,  anarchy  in,  8;  democratic 
state  of  mind  in,  99-105;  discipline 
in,  105;  universities  in,  115;  bureau- 
cracy of,  129,  130,  405;  efficiency  of, 
129,  130;  nationality  in,  157,  165;  a 
nation  by  dynasty,  164;  and  the  Holy 
Roman  Empire,  234;  Protestants  and 
Roman  Catholics  in,  245,  394;  the 
Reformation  in,  244;  and  revolution 
of  1789,  257;  socialism  in,  295;  feudal 
absolutism  in,  299;  Christian  social- 
ism in,  307;  state-socialism  in,  310; 
socialism  of  the  chair  in,  312;  unset- 
tled government  in,  314;  the  super- 
man of,  315;  peace  movement  in,  340; 
before  Kant,  345;  history  of,  since 
Kant,  353-356;  Prussianization  of, 
353;  political  propaganda  of,  354; 
economic  penetration  of,  354;  unity 
of,  354;  extinction  of  small  states  in, 
364;  expansionist  policy  of,  before 
the  war,  368;  people  in,  misled  by 
rulers,  383;  vandalism  of,  387; 
ascendancy  of,  396;  economic  trans- 
formation in,  396,  397;  increase 
in  population  of,  397;  transformation 
of  spiritual  into  material  ideas  in,  398; 
arrogance  of  military  caste  in,  398; 
policy  of  peaceful  penetration,  398- 
400;  campaign  for  world  conquest 
to  be  pacific,  398,  399,  401;  attitude 
of,  toward  colonies,  400,  401;  and 
opportunism  in  politics,  400;  world 
policy  of,  400-403;  "Baltics"  in,  401; 
alliance  of,  with  Austria-Hungary,  395, 
396,  401;  dream  of  world  conquest, 
402,405;  aspirations  checked  by  dip- 
lomatic revolution,  403;  claim  to 
Alsace-Lorraine,  421,  422;  question  of 
reparation,  restitution,  and  guaran- 
tees by,  423-425;  disposition  of  col- 
onies of,  425,  426;  desire  of,  for  access 
to  North  Sea,  428;  worship  of  the 
German  genius  in,  442,  443;  Middle 
Europe  plan  of,  445;  and  enduring 
peace,  446;  subject  peoples  of,  447; 
appeal  of,  to  nationality,  456;  ex- 
clusion of,  from  Pacific  sphere,  468. 
See  also  German  Empire. 
Ghent,  Treaty  of,  375 


INDEX 


479 


Gladstone,  287 
Goethe,  355 

Gondard,  Ange,  334;  plan  of,  for  world 
peace,  343 

Gotthard  railway,  the,  429 

Government,  contract  theory  of,  33,  si. 
54,  191,  192,  196-198,  338;  divine 
origin  of,  36;  city,  71,  144;  party,  60, 
61,  71,  72,  253,  458;  corruption  in, 
61;  representative  system  of,  67  ei 
seq.;  commission  form  of,  71;  bad 
men  and  good,  83,  208,  210;  "good," 
and  "self,"  123;  a  deistic  concep- 
tion, 148,  149;  inconsistencies  in,  150; 
as  a  science  and  as  an  art,  169,  170; 
directive  and  coercive  powers  of,  207, 
312;  parliamentary,  256;  _  unity  of, 
and  nation,  257;  constitutional,  238; 
limitation  of  scope  of,  288,  289;  fed- 
eral representative,  most  efficient 
type  of,  323;  only  with  consent  of 
governed,  459 

Grant,  as  a  leader,  147 

Gratian,  teaching  of,  43,  44 

Great  Britain,  plutocracy  of,  52;  party 
government  in,  71;   democracy  of, 

73,  74,  112,  129,  130;  colonies  of,  73, 

74,  368,  369;  democratic  monarchy 
in,  78;  woman  suffrage  in,  112;  in 
war,  128,  129;  constitution  of,  131, 
216,  258;  nationality  in,  158;  con- 
stitutional ministry  of,  227;  forma- 
tion of,  as  a  nation,  163,  164;  and 
treaty  of  Utrecht,  340;  expansionist 
policy  before  the  war,  368,  369; 
secret  diplomacy  of,  37s.  404;  Ger- 
man ascendancy  in,  396;  and  the  En- 
tente, 400;  menace  of  German  rivalry 
to,  403,  404,  408,  422;  terms  of  En- 
tente concerning,  40s,  406;  and  Bal- 
kan control,  407;  control  of  Meso- 
potamia and  Suez  Canal,  411;  change 
in  policy  of,  414,  415;  interests  of,  in 
Egypt,  415;  and  integrity  of  Den- 
mark, 417;  Cyprus  taken  from  Tur- 
key by,  419;  reasons  of,  for  entering 
war  of  1914-1918,  408,  422;  and 
German  colonies,  425;  declared  object 
of,  in  war,  433;  and  restoration  of 
Poland,  437;  control  of,  in  Asia 
Minor,  460;  naval  bases  of,  at  Hali- 
fax and  the  Bermudas,  466.  See  also 
England 

Greece,  the  city-state  of,  29,  182-187, 
204,  229;  politics  of,  39;  tyranny  in 
ancient,  98,  99;  and  Persia,  224;  the 
people  of,  22s;  commonwealths  of, 
228;  collective  will  in,  229 

Greeks,  the,  church  of,  93 ;  philosophy  of, 
184;  learning  of,  brought  into  western 
Europe,  240;  constructive  thinkers, 
328;  attitude  of,  toward  war,  330; 
peace  idea  of,  330,  331 


Gregory  the  Great,  194 
Grey,  404 

Grotius,  Hugo,  334;  his  doctrine  of 
man,  325;  and  the  secular  principle 
of  right,  337;  his  treatise  on  the  law 
of  war,  337,  338 

Guadaloupe  Hidalgo,  Treaty  of,  376 

Guam,  467 

Guantanamo,  466 

Guarantees,  from  Germany,  423 

Habit,  as  sanction  of  conduct,  78;  com- 
munity of,  161,  162 

Hague  Tribunal,  366 

Hamilton,  and  the  Treasury,  72 

Happiness,  the  pursuit  of,  in;  feeling, 
the  condition  of,  136 

Harrington,  49 

Hartman,  35s 

Hawaii,  74,  465,  467 

Hegel,  his  doctrine  of  the  state,  139, 
201;  philosophy  of,  327,  352,  353; 
followers  of,  355 

Heine,  355 

Hellenes,  the,  iS9 

Hellenism,  the  morality  of,  240 

Henry  IV,  46,  413;  plan  of,  for  Christian 
Republic,  333,  340-342 

Heraclitus,  40 

Heredity,  in  choice  of  kings,  46,  38 

Heresies,  political,  193 

Hero  warrior,  cult  of,  in  Prussia,  353 

Hero-worship,  324 

Hippothade,  150 

History,  and  origin  of  man,  28;  false 
keys  to,  30;  and  theory,  171;  and 
philosophy,  177,  178;  and  the  nation, 
172;  and  the  state,  220;  and  war,  324 
ei  seq.;  philosophy  or,  347,  348 

Hobbes,  si,  171,  192;  his  form  of  the 
contract  theory,  196,  197;  his  doc- 
trine of  morality  of  man,  325;  and 
wolf-theory  of  man,  352 

HohenzoUerns,  the,  Germany  under,  210, 
3S4 

HohenzoUem  dynasty,  the,  164,  351 
Holland,  and  the  force  theory,  196 
Holland,  in  Middle  Ages,  239;  economic 

ascent  of,  245;  and  colonization,  246; 

and  revolution  of  1789,  257;  progress 

of,  448 

Holly  Alliance,  the,  333,  3S4.  364,  413, 
414 

Holy  Roman  Empire,  the,  205,  232,  234 
"Homo  sapiens,"  26,  27 
Horace,  331 

Hotman,  Francis,  46,  191 

House  of  Commons,  representation  in, 

68 

Hugo,  Victor,  327,  351 
Huguenots,  the,  244 
Human  laws,  31 
Humanists,  the,  333 


48o 


INDEX 


Humanitarian  liberty,  doubtful  value 

of,  140,  141 
Humanitarianlsm,  4,  12,  13 
Hume,  his  "Origin  of  Government,"  200 

Ideal,  abuse  of  the  word,  141, 142;  ideals 
of  to-day  the  facts  of  to-morrow,  377 
378;  ideals  of  peace  and  possible  at- 
tainment, 434  el  seq. 

Ideologues,  179 

Immigration,  to  the  United  States,  136, 
137.  170.  276.  461,  46s;  restriction  of, 
280,  281;    character  of,  283;  and 
naturalization  laws,  284;   reform  in 
rules  of,  needed,  285;  German,  426 
Imperial  democracies,  73,  74 
Inconsistencies,  in  all  governments,  150 
Independence,  theory  of  state,  365,  366; 

new  definitions  of,  388 
Independents,  Calvinistic,  46,  47 
India,  democratic  elements  in,  73-7S, 
106;  non-historic,  220;  society  in 
ancient,  221;  despotism  in,  225;  over- 
population of,  282;  idea  of  peace  in 
early,  329 

Individual,  the,  product  of  the  state, 
32-34;  and  the  nation,  176,  181,  182, 
211-215;  relation  of,  to  sovereign, 
i8r;  in  ancient  Oriental  monarchies, 
221,  222;  causes  producing  character 
and  value  of,  236;  in  Middle  Ages, 
236;  emancipation  of,  from  power  of 
society,  247  et  seq.;  and  the  land, 
261;  progress  of,  and  society,  306; 
danger  in  weakening  responsibility 
of.  309,  310.    See  also  Man 

Individualism,  436;  and  equality,  43; 
and  the  Teutons,  233 

Individualistic  hypothesis  of  man's  ori- 
gin, 2S,  27 

Individuality,  the  struggle  for,  32,  33; 
meaning  of,  211,  212;  growth  of,  in 
Byzantine  empire,  231;  evolution  of, 
233-243;  sturdiest,  produced  in  i6th 
and  17  th  centuries,  251 

Industry,  of  ancient  East,  223 

Inequality,  of  brains  and  wealth,  85; 
passion  for,  a  menace  to  democracy, 
86-91;  created  by  place-holders,  143 

Inherent  rights,  40,  347 

Interest,  community  of,  162 

Interests,  representation  of,  69,  70 

International  arbitration,  popular  par- 
ticipation in,  376,  377 

International  Court,  problems  for,  436 
et  seq.,  361 

International  justice,  360,  361 

International  law,  9;  a  new  sanction 
for,  339-363,  381-383;  seven  epochs 
in  development  of,  363,  364;  Whea- 
ton's  definition  of,  364;  19th  century 
conception  of,  376;  in  embryo,  385; 
violations  of,  cause  for  war,  457 


International  relations,  legal  ability 
and  technicaUty  in  control  of,  376, 
377;  new  principles  in,  373,  374; 
unstable  equilibrium  of,  393 

International  rights,  coercive  and  direc- 
tive, 218 

Intervention,  foreign,  5;  state,  an  ad- 
vance toward  permanent  peace,  381, 
382;  Metternich  doctrine  of,  417 

Invention,  American  efficiency  in,  132 

Investigation,  168,  176.  202 

Ireland,  437;  Protestants  and  Roman 
Catholics  in,  24s;  landlordism  in, 
269;  oppression  in,  48 

Isaiah,  the  teaching  of,  326 

Islam,  democratic  teachings  of,  75,  106, 
3SQ 

Isocrates,  330,  331 

Italy,  the  city-state  of,  29;  democratic 
state  of  mind  in,  106;  in  war,  129; 
early,  not  a  nation,  159;  and  ItaHan- 
speaking  peoples,  160;  and  dynasties, 
164;  in  Holy  Roman  Empire,  234; 
and  revolution  of  1789,  257;  expan- 
sionist poUcy  of,  before  the  war,  368; 
extinction  of  small  states  in,  364; 
and  France,  396,  403,  404;  terms  of 
Entente  concerning,  406;  policy  of, 
410;  unity  of,  416;  recognized  as 
sixth  great  power,  418;  claims  of, 
428;  object  of,  in  war,  433 

Japan,  220;  aristocratic  temper  of,  75; 
democratic  state  of  mind  in,  106; 
in  war,  145;  theocracy  of,  182; 
limited  autocracy  of,  372;  and  Corea, 
378;  and  China,  388;  the  question 
of,  440,  44s,  446;  control  of,  in  Pacific, 
460,  46s,  467,  468 

Jefferson,  Thomas,  65,  144,  170,  198 

Jessels,  his  counsel  of  perfection,  359 

Jesuits,  the,  and  divine  right  in  the  pa- 
pacy, 46;  poUtical  teachings  of,  192 

Jews,  the,  contract  between  king  and 
people  among,  37;  in  France,  71,  107; 
theocracy  of,  193;  war  code  of,  329 

Joint  families,  survivals  of,  181,  182,  204 

Jones,  Sir  William,  219 

Judaism,  idea  of  ideal  peace  in,  329 

Jugo-Slavia,  436,  437 

Jural  society,  the  nation  as  a,  210 

Jus  gentium,  the,  41,  195 

Jus  naturae,  the,  40,  311 

Justice,  the  problem  of  organized  na- 
tional state,  306;  firm  foundations  for 
international,  360,  361;  meaning  of 
social,  367,  368 

Kant,  Immanuel,  334;  and  German 
thought,  103;  and  modern  phil- 
osophy, 328;  the  Germans  before, 
345 ;  philosophy  of,  34s;  his  doctrines 
of  perpetual  peace,  346-350,  366,  382; 


INDEX 


his  doctrine  of  natural  rights,  347; 
his  peace  philosophy  of  law,  347;  his 
peace  philosophy  of  history,  348;  ori- 
ginality and  advance  of,  350;  betrayal 
of,  in  Germany,  3SI-353;  conse- 
quences of  betrayal  of,  356 
Ketteler,  von,  307 

Kings,  hereditary  succession  of,  46,  58, 
253;   divine  right  of,  49,  149,  190, 

249.  363 

Kingship,  22,  origin  of,  76 

Kingsley,  Charles,  quoted,  161;  teach- 
ing of,  2Q4 

Klaatsch,  Professor,  26 

Kluchevsky,  106 

"Kultur,"  3S2 

La  Boetie,  his  "Contre-XJn,"  126 
Labor,  unionization  of,  118;  legislation 
regarding,  289;  and  property.  293; 
co-operation  of,  294;  right  to  full 
share  in  product  of,  295;  and  wages, 
296-300;  reforms  accomplished  for, 
300;  agitators  in  the  United  States, 
313,  314 

Land,  the,  man's  relation  to,  261,  262; 
reaction  of,  on  inhabitants,  265; 
and  social  institutions,  267:  forms  of 
tenure  of,  267-269;  joint-ownership 
of,  271;  nationaUzation  of,  271- 
274;  freehold  ownership  of,  272; 
private  ownership  of,  272-274;  the 
state,  and  titles  to,  273;  law  of  dimin- 
ishing returns  in,  273;  state  loans  on 
security  of,  274;  development  of,  in 
relation  to  dwellers  on,  274 

Landlordism,  269 

Language,  as  evidence  of  man's  social 
origin,  26,  28;  influence  of,  141,  142; 
changing  usages  of,  15s;  and  nation- 
ality, 160,  1 6s;  and  international 
courts,  442 

Languet,  Hubert,  teaching  of,  191,  196 

Lansdowne,  404 

Lasalle,  doctrine  of,  287,  295,  296 

Latin  race,  164 

Laud,  Archbishop,  48 

Law,  human  and  natural,  31;  trans- 
formation in  conception  of,  39; 
natural,  40-44,  48,  212;  moral,  41; 
positive,  41;  validity  of,  based  on 
popular  will,  41,  42,  191;  public  and 
private,  173;  regulations,  nearest 
thing  to,  181;  and  force,  196;  trans- 
gressing of,  210;  and  the  nation,  217; 
most  scientific  code  of,  product  of 
French  Revolution,  257;  and  religion, 
337;  differences  of  sanction  behind 
municipal  and  international,  359, 
360;  direct  popular  control  in  public, 
378,  379.   See  also  International  law 


Law-making  and  popular  sovereignty 
igi 

Lawlessness  and  democracy,  112 
Lawrence,  Lord,  358 
Lawyers,  in  the  American  colonies,  SS 
Leadership,  desire  for,  6,  7,  323;  in  war, 

147;  in  the  United  States,  431 
League  of  Nations,  8,  133,  390,  420 
Lecky,  138 
Lee,  147 

Legal  rights,  213,  214 

Legality,  the  foe  of  equity,  34 

Legislation,  art  and  science  of,  288; 
limitation  of,  288,  289;  remedial  and 
directive,  289,  290;  responsibility 
for,  317;  precepts  of  wisdom  behind 
all,  360 

Leibnitz,  doctrine  of,  340,  341 
Lessing,  34s 

Levellers,  the,  political  writings  of,  49 

Lex  Regia,  the,  42 

Liberalism,  in  America,  53 

Liberty,  the  enjoyment  of  order,  32,  33; 
impossible  without  the  state,  34;  prop- 
erty the  cornerstone  of,  36,  37,  254; 
non-existent  in  ancient  world,  42; 
Rousseau's  idea  of,  51 ;  self-denial  the 
price  of,  60;  derivation  and  use  of  the 
word,  79;  in  a  democracy,  82,  83; 
German  idea  of,  99-102;  new  ideal  of, 
no,  in;  and  servitude,  138;  and 
duty,  138;  humanitarian,  140,  141; 
in  ancient  Rome  and  Greece,  186; 
advancement  of  personal,  206;  un- 
known in  ancient  East,  223,  224 

Life,  new  ideal  of,  109,  no;  medium  of 
modern,  127,  128 

Lincoln,  ideal  of,  142;  as  a  leader,  147 

Literature,  political,  170,  171 

Liverpool,  99 

Locke,  49,  171,  334;  teaching  of,  51, 
192,  288;  his  form  of  contract  theory, 
197;  his  doctrine  of  morality  of  man, 
325;  a  peace  supporter,  338 

London,  peace  conferences  at,  417-419 

Lords,  English  House  of,  253 

Lorraine,  160 

Loyalists,  American  treatment  of,  34 
Luther,  194,  243 
Lutheranism,  45,  244 
Lyall,  Sir  Alfred,  219 

Macaulay,  245 

Macedonians,  the,  389 

Machiavelli,  teaching  of,  191,  333 

Madison,  James,  55 

Mahan,  Admiral,  466 

Maine,  Sir  Henry,  219 

Maistre,  Joseph  de,  325 

Majority,  and  minority,  relations  of,  66; 

rule,  and  popular  will,  52,  57,  58;  rule, 

in  the  United  States,  277 
Malthus,  teaching  of,  293,  294 


482 


INDEX 


Malthusians,  the,  2Q4 

Man,  social  origin  of,  2S~34.  02.  3371 
a  political  animal,  26,  141;  associated 
and  personal,  57 ;  worth  of,  as  man,  95, 
247,  250;  natural,  141,  142;  doctrine 
of  unity  of,  185,  340;  and  his  sur- 
roundings, 207,  208;  emancipation  of, 
from  power  of  society,  247;  relation 
of,  to  the  land,  261,  2A2;  free,  the 
ultimate  fact  in  social  evolution,  305; 
elTorts  to  ameliorate,  307;  conflict, 
the  condition  of  existence  of  primi- 
tive, 324;  doctrine  of  morality  of, 
325;  Hebrew  view  of  worth  and 
brotherhood  of,  326;  Kant's  concep- 
tion of,  348;  the  wolf-theory  of,  352; 
war,  habitual  state  of,  357.  See 
also  Individual 

Manhood,  special  type  of,  124 

Maupassant,  327 

Marcus  Aurelius,  185 

Marius,  125 

Markets,  contest  for,  338 

Marriages,  improvident,  a  source  of 

population  trouble,  285 
Marshall  Islands,  Japan's  occupation 

of,  465,  467 
Marsilius  of  Padua,  teaching  of,  44 
Marx,  13,  14,  287,  2gs,  299,  300,  351 
Marxism,  s,  104,  212,  328;  basis  of, 

296-298 
Materialistic  philosophy,  195 
Maurice,  teaching  of,  294 
McClellan,  147 

"Measures,    not    men,"  misleading 

phrase,  84 
Mecklenburg  duchies,  government  of, 

IS7 

Mediaeval  state,  the,  233-246.    See  also 

Middle  Ages 
Mediaevalism,  75,  iiS,  326 
"Melting-pot,"  the,  136,  137,389,457 
Men,  bad,  and  good  government,  83, 

208,  210 
Menshevism,  15 
Mcphistopheles,  374 
Mesopotamia,  411 

Metaphysical  thought,  change  from,  to 

historical,  igi,  192 
Metteniich  doctrine  of  intervention, 

ISO,  417 
Mexican  War,  375 

Mexico,  150,  245,  386,  420,  447;  treat- 
ment of  Americans  in,  361 

Middle  Ages,  the,  Catholicism  in,  43,  44; 
secular  allegiance  in,  161;  essentially 
unpolitical,  i8g;  spiritual  and  tem- 
poral power  in,  190,  191;  nationality 
in,  233  et  scq. ;  the  nation  anil  the  sub- 
ject in,  236;  agricultural  laborers  in, 
239;  revival  of  human  spirit  in,  239- 
241;  renewed  commercial  enterprise 
in,  240;  discover)'  and  settlement  in, 


240;  new  birth  of  fine  arts  in,  241; 

completed  sense  of  personal  responsi- 
bility in,  243;  church  and  state  in, 
332;  ecclesiastical  wars  of,  332 
Middle  Empire,  the,  regeneration  of,  388 
Might  and  right,  123,  196,  328 
Militarism,  temporary,  58;  German, 

loi,  102,  3SI 
Military,  service,  96,  120,  351;  system, 
in  America,  132;  preparedness,  382, 
383 

Mill,  John  Stuart,  173,  288 

Milton,  political  works  of,  49;  his  con- 
cept of  a  nation,  201,  218 

Minority,  and  majority,  relations  of,  66; 
representation,  69 

Mirabeau,  201 

Mississippi  Valley,  settlement  of,  266 
Mobs,  144 

Mohammedanism,  45;  and  democratic 

assertion,  7S 
Monarchy,   hereditary,   46,   $9,,  253; 

democratic,  58,  78;  in  struggle  for 

ascendancy,  72,  73;  in  warfare,  147; 

the  Oriental,  220  et  seq.;   in  Middle 

Ages,  241 

Monogamic  family,  the,  29,  30,  92,  202, 
203 

Monroe  Doctrine,  the,  467 
Montesquieu,  325,  342 
Moral,  law,  41;  rights,  213,  ^14 
Morality,  crude  concepts  of,  119-123; 

political,  169 
More,  171 
Morley,  John,  103 
Mormons,  215,  216 
Mulford,  quoted,  200 
Municipal  law,  9,  359 
Museums,  135 

Napoleon  Bonaparte,  10,  56,  107,  147, 
ISO,  178,  3SI,  378,  388 

Napoleon,  Louis,  292 

Napoleonic  wars,  the,  291-293,  334 

Nation,  the,  destroyed  by  socialism,  7, 
304;  and  democracy,  15s  et  seq.; 
divergent  meanings  of  the  word,  156- 
159;  and  people,  is7,  158;  element 
of  size  in,  159,  160;  geographical  unity 
and  natural  boundaries  of,  160,  165; 
community  of  custom  in,  i6i;  com- 
munity of  interest  in,  162;  community 
of  rights  in,  166;  and  religion,  i6r, 
217;  and  education.  217;  and  trade, 
217;  and  dynasties,  163,  164;  as 
sovereign  and  moral  organism,  166; 
and  the  individual,  181,  182;  personal 
elements  in  the  primitive,  180  et  seq.; 
basis  of  authority  in  primitive,  180; 
nature  and  origin  of,  193  el  seq.; 
supernatural  authority  in,  193;  and 
the  family,  198,  199;  a  jural  society, 
199,  200,  210;  as  an  economic  society. 


INDEX 


483 


200;  a  moral  organism,  200.  201,  215, 
216;  directive,  not  coercive,  207, 
2ih.  218;  classes  in,  208-210;  and 
individual,  211-215;  rudiments  of, 
in  ancient  East,  220;  tlie  Oriental, 
2ig  (t  scq.\  beginnings  of  true,  23s; 
and  the  subject  in  13th  century,  236 

Nation,  the  modern,  247  cl  scq.;  essen- 
tial qualities  of,  248;  confusion  of 
powers  in,  248-250;  spiritual  and 
temporal  powers  in,  249,  250; 
personal  responsibility  and  the  public 
good  in,  251;  relation  of,  to  its  terri- 
tory, 265-267;  and  the  people,  275 
el  seg.;  heterogeneous  elements  in, 
276;  enormous  territory  and  popula- 
tion of,  276,  277;  and  decline  of  public 
spirit,  278;  and  religion,  289;  and 
social  classes,  291  el  seq.;  and  the 
individual,  305  el  seq.;  problems  of, 
306;  the  socialized,  a  probability,  313 

Nations,  co-operation  among,  358; 
general  association  of,  413  el  seq.; 
interdependence  of,  468 

National,  culture,  124,  125;  evolution, 
the  goal  of,  379 

Nationalistic  societies  in  New  York, 
436,  461 

Nationality,  influence  of,  76,  q6,  97; 
and  the  universal  church,  189;  be- 
ginnings of,  in  13th  century,  235; 
common  interest  the  bond  of,  275; 
unity  of,  385;  expansion  of  idea  of, 
388,  389;  the  problem  of,  436  cl  scq.; 
right  of,  436,  440;    passion  for,  a 
menace  to  peace,  456 
Nationalization  of  land,  271-274 
Naturalization  laws,  American,  284 
Natural,  meaning  and  use  of  the  word, 

141,  142 
Natural  law,  31,  40-44,  48,  212 
Natural  rights,  48;  principles  of,  40,  41; 

meanings  of  phrase,  212-215 
Natural  science,  and  war,  378 
Naturalists,  and  origin  of  man,  25 
Nature,  its  influence  upon  man,  262 
Navy,  American,  in  Civil  War,  148 
Negro  suffrage,  113 
Neighbor,  love  of,  326,  328 
Netherlands,  the.  Reformation  in,  244; 

progress  in,  448 
Neutrality,  armed,  414 
New  England,  theocracy  in,  195 
New  York  City,  nationalistic  societies 

in,  436,  461;  slums  of,  461 
New  York  State,  new  constitution  de- 
clined by,  66 
Nicholas,  Czar,  401,  405 
Niebuhr,  194 
Nietzsche,  356 

Nile,  valley  of  the,  despotism  and  re- 
ligious awe  in,  222,  223 
Noachian  laws,  the,  329 


Non-intervention,  doctrine  of,  459 
Non-representative  democracies  dark 

sides  of,  62 
Norsemen,  240 
Norway,  government  of,  157 

Office-holders  and  office-seekers,  88-gi, 
07,  132,  444,  445 

Oligarchy,  democracy  and,  23,  125; 
government  by,  61;  the  Carthagin- 
ian, 228 

Opportunity,  equalization  of,  i2r 

Orient,  the,  thought  in,  3;  democratic 
state  of  mind  in,  74,  75,  106;  idea 
of  servitude  as  freedom  in,  138;  the- 
ocracies of,  181,  182;  unconsciously 
historic,  219-221;  nationalities  of, 
440;  training  of  men  to  represent  the 
United  States  in,  464 

Orient,  the  ancient,  rudiments  of  nation 
and  state  in,  220;  monarchies  of,  de- 
fective in  political  ideas,  221;  bond- 
age in,  222-225;  social  conditions  in, 
223-228;  vast  extent  and  degree  of 
monarchies  in,  224;  people  of,  225, 
226;  methods  of  despotism  in,  225; 
ignorance  and  self-indulgence  in,  226; 
sj'stem  of  castein,  227;  rulerin, analog- 
ous to  patriarchal  chief,  227;  artificial 
and  unorganized  society  in,  227,  228; 
the  city-state  of,  228,  229 

Origin  of  man,  theories  of,  25-34,  92, 
M7 

Otto  the  Great,  234 

Ottoman  empire,  nationalities  in,  456  * 
Owen,  292-294 

Pacific  coast  of  the  United  States,  460 
el  seq.;  question  of  national  policy 
on,  462;  Oriental  students  of,  463; 
community  of  feeling  on,  464; 
strategy  of,  465,  466;  diplomacy  of, 
467 

Pacific  Ocean,  the,  rivalry  for  control 
in,  362;  naval  strategy  of,  466 

Pacifism,  122,  324,  326,  337  cl  scq.; 
of  followers  of  Waldus,  332;  of  the 
Quakers,  333,  338,  339;  a  fallacy  the 
basis  of,  386 

Paine,  Thomas,  342 

Panama  Canal,  392,  411,  427,  428,  466 

Pangloss,  Doctor,  73 

Pantagruel,  150,  151 

Panurge,  150 

Papacy,  the,  divine  right  in,  44,  46,  93, 

194;  an  Itahanate  principality,  76 
Paris,  Treaty  of,  1898,  576;  peace  con- 
gress of  1856  at,  418 
Parliament,  British,  99,  253 
Parliamentary  government,  256 
Parties,  political,  60,  61,  71,  72,  458; 
origin  of,  253 


484 


INDEX 


Party  leaders.    See  "Politocrats" 

ratriarchal  system,  the,  180-182 

Patriotism,  and  peace,  442 

Pax  Romana,  the,  357 

Peace,  sacrifice  necessary  to  secure,  7,  8; 
and  state  sovereignties,  10;  faction 
and  party  in  times  of,  58;  and  de- 
mocracy, lio  etseq.;  and  international 
relations  in  Middle  Ages,  242;  state 
federation  and  world,  323;  embryonic 
philosophy  of,  325;  the  Hebrew  view 
of,  326;  first  true  philosophy  of,  328; 
difference  between  idea  and  phil- 
osophy of,  328;  Christian  doctrine  of, 
332;  treatises  on  perpetual  world, 
333>  334;  Cruc6's  conception  of  a 
court  of,  334,  335 ;  and  the  ultra- 
theologians,  33S,  336;  suggestions  for 
enduring,  337  el  scg.;  St.  Pierre's  pro- 
ject for,  340-343;  1 8th  century  eager 
for,  34s;  four  types  of  plans  of,  34s; 
Kant's  doctrine  of,  346-350;  possi- 
bility of  a  permanent,  358;  principle 
of  lasting,  359;  19th  century  concept 
of>  365-367;  new  vision  of,  367;  on 
basis  of  levelling,  367  et  seq.;  by  rep- 
resentatives, 381;  problems  of,  384 
et  seq.;  and  economic  and  social  re- 
forms, 390;  without  victory,  416; 
minimum  terms  of,  430,  431;  public 
opinion  and  terras  of,  431,  432;  con- 
flict of  ideals  of,  with  possible  attain- 
ment, 434  ei  seq.;  armed  truce  first 
step  toward,  434;  and  socialized 
democracy,  436;  and  question  of  na- 
tionalities, 436-438;  enduring,  must 
find  middle  course,  438;  with  honor  or 
dishonor,  447;  Allies'  terms  of,  447; 
doctrine  of  perpetual,  a  working  hy- 
pothesis, 453;  as  test  of  democracy, 
454  et  seq.;  enduring,  dependent  on 
justice  and  fairness  of  settlements,  468 

Peace  Conference,  the,  problems  before, 
384  el  seq.;  decisions  of,  based  on  re- 
sponsibility for  war,  407;  America 
at,  415;  primary  questions  before, 
419  et  seq.;  rectifying  map  of  Europe, 
first  business  of,  419  et  seq.,  428-430; 
question  of  territorial  aggrandize- 
ments at,  420;  primary  considerations 
of,  420-422;  and  reparation,  restitu- 
tion and  guarantees,  423-425;  and 
question  of  colonies,  425,  426;  and 
question  of  economic  peace,  428;  en- 
forcement of  conclusions  reached  by, 
428;  minimum  terms  of  peace  of, 
430,  431 

Peace  Congresses,  conduct  of  igth  cen- 
tury, 416;  enumeration  of,  since  1815, 
417 

Peace  society,  first,  333 
Pearl  Harbor,  467 


Penn,  William,  334;  his  "Towards  the 
Present  and  Future  Peace  of  Europe," 
339.  345 

Pensions,  American  system  of,  132; 

Civil  War,  310 
People,  distinguished  from  nation,  1 56- 

Perfectibility,  of  human  nature,  35,  120, 

207,  313,  340 
Pericles,  98,  229 

Persia,  and  Greece,  224;  partition  of, 

368 

Personality,  relation  of,  to  organized 
society,  214,  215,  248;  in  ancient 
East,  223;  of  the  state,  95,  96,  102, 
103,  287,  288 

Phenicia,  the  city-state  of,  228,  229 

Philanthropy,  democratic  ideal  of,  110 

PhiUppines,  the,  74,  369,  467 

Philosophy,  and  history,  177,  178; 
Greek,  184;  political,  of  Middle 
Ages,  190-192;  substance  of  a  true, 
328 

Physical  evolutionists,  199 
Physical  science,  30,  173 
Pitt,  the  elder,  33 
Place-bribery,  143 

Plato,  40, 171, 184, 185;  his  "Republic," 

330 
Plutarch,  194 

Plutocracy,  American,  23,  52;  and 
democracy,  52;  French,  56;  and 
servility,  134 

Plutocrats,  90 

Poland,  partition  of,  363;  restoration 

of,  437;  and  nationality,  436 
Poles,  449,  450 

Political  economy,  175;  and  historical 
school  of  sociaiists,  311;  classical, 
312 

Political,  education,  81;  organism, 
power  to  create,  77;  rights,  equal, 
85-87;  systems,  123 

Political  science,  168  et  seq.;  the  facts 
of,  172-174;  and  public  and  private 
law,  173;  distinguished  from  natural 
science,  173;  and  sociology,  174; 
a  department  of  ethics,  175;  the 
supreme  truth  of,  191 

Political  theory,  3,  4,  171;  futility  of, 
in  ancient  world,  42;  the  course  of, 
180  et  seq.;  character  and  influence  of, 
in  ancient  Rome  and  Greece,  184- 
186;  in  Middle  Ages,  190-192 

Politicians,  professional,  61-63 

Politics,  and  western  thought,  3,  4; 
democratic  state  of  mind  in,  95,  96; 
education  for  intelligent  participation 
in,  125;  art  of,  169,  170,  172;  litera- 
ture concerned  with,  170,  171;  in- 
fluence of  Reformation  on,  243-246; 
confused,  in  beginning  of  modern 
state,  249;  ideals  of,  365;  past  and 


INDEX 


485 


present  in,  371;  German  opportun- 
ism in,  400 

"Politocrats,"  23,  63,  70,  80,  89-91,  107 

Polybius,  i&s 

Polygamy,  in  Jewish  history,  203;  Mor- 
mon, 21s,  216 

Poor-laws,  effective,  310 

Popular  control  in  public  law,  378,  379 

Popular  sovereignty,  44,  46,  48,  51,  55, 
63.  77.  78,  263 

Popular  will,  and  autocracy,  6;  the 
foundation  of  power,  52;  and  de- 
mocracy, 56,  148;  embryonic,  S7.  S8; 
in  majority,  57,  58;  money  cost  of 
expressing,  59,  60 

Population,  restriction  of,  281;  increase 
in  world,  282  et  seq.;  relief  from  con- 
gestion of,  282,  283 

Porto  Rico,  74 

Portugal,  and  colonization,  240,  245 

Positive  law,  41 

Posterity,  duty  to,  387 

Practical  ability,  131 

Prator  peregrinus,  the,  41 

Prefecture,  the  French,  107 

Prehistoric  investigation,  202 

Presbyterians,  Scotch,  195 

President,  American,  term  of  office  of, 
71;  the  electoral  college  for  choosing, 
258;  powers  of,  enlarged  in  war  time, 
45S 

Progress,  human,  177 
Progressives,  4 

Proletariat,  the,  88,  299,  300,  303,  304 

Property,  first  word  in  civilization,  34; 
the  foundation  of  personal  liberty,  36, 
37;  sanctity  of,  192;  safeguarded  in 
ancient  East,  220;  and  liberty,  254; 
depjendent  on  the  state,  273 

Prophet-worship,  324 

Protestant  Reformation.  See  Reforma- 
tion, Protestant 

Protestants,  in  France,  71,  107;  and 
socialism,  307 

Proudhon,  308 

Province,  the  Roman,  230 

Prussia,  kingdom  of,  103;  a  nation  by 
dynasty,  164;  and  universal  military 
service,  351;  cult  of  the  hero  warrior 
in.  3S3;  religion  in,  394;  disruption 
of,  437 

Psychological  evolution,  30 
Psychologists,  social  theory  of,  25-28 
Public  opinion,  misleading  concept  of, 

81;  expressed  in  international  affairs, 

431.  432 

Public  service,  and  democracy,  60,  132 
Puritan,  revolution  in  England,  47,  48; 

revival  in  i8th  century,  48,  49 
Puritanism,  47  el  seq.;   pivotal  idea  of, 

4S 

Pushkin,  quoted,  S5 


Quakers,  the,  pacifism  of,  333,  338,  339 

Race,  and  the  nation,  164 
Radicalism,  red,  5,  6;   new  views  of, 

119-123;  experiments  in,  122;  battle 

with,  146 

Real    estate,   safeguarded   in  earliest 

civilization,  36,  37 
Reason,  and  experience,  214;  tendency 

toward,  as  principle  of  conduct,  240 
Recognition,  American  doctrine  of,  150 
Red  Terror,  the,  263,  264 
Refinement,  124 

Reform,  a  problem  of  organized  nations, 
306 

Reform  Bill  of  1832,  British,  56,  99 
Reformation,  Protestant,  242-248,  332; 

and  right  of  private  judgment,  45; 

pivotal  doctrine  of,  243;  form  of,  243, 

244;  influence  of,  on  politics,  244-246; 

economic  results  of,  24s,  246 
Reformed  churches,  absolutism  of,  46 
Religion,  and  nationality,  138,  161,  164, 

165,  217,  289;  and  law,  337 
Religious,  democracy,  45;  equality,  in 

American  colonies,  54,  55;  liberty,  in 

modern  nation,  247,  249;  rivalries,  in 

Europe,  394 
Renaissance,  the,  240,  241,  247 
Reparation,  by  Germany,  424,  425 
Representation,  origin  and  history  of, 

67,  68;  forms  of,  68,  69;  of  minorities 

and  interests,  69,  70 
Representative  system  of  government, 

67  et  seq.;  check  on  pure  democracy, 

70-72 

Representatives,  method  of  choosing,  69 
Resources,  natural,  influence  of,  267; 

of  the  world,  282;  conservation  of, 

387,  388 

Responsibility,  personal,  for  the  public 

good,  251 
Restitution,  by  Germany,  424,  425 
Revolution,  American,  131,  132,  145, 
164,  248,  254-257;  French,  145,  164, 
170,  179,  197,  248,  257,  291,  354; 
English,  of  1688,  14s,  164,  171,  248, 
252;  world,  of  1789,  164,  257,  354; 
of  1798,  and  democracy,  291;  Turk- 
ish, 408 

Revolutions,  democracy  and  petty,  65, 
144;  changes  effected  only  by,  265 
Ribot,  419 

Ricardian  economy,  312,  313 

Right,  secular  principle  of,  337;  a  new 
pubhc,  423 

Rights,  of  the  individual,  28,  29;  a  gift 
of  society,  33;  inherent,  40,  347; 
natural,  40,  41,  48,  212-215;  princi- 
ples of  universal  and  of  natural,  40, 
41;  bills  of,  55;  declaration  of,  65; 
equal  civil  and  political,  85-87 ;  social, 
87,  215,  216;  expansion  of  domestic. 


486 


INDEX 


g2,  03;  false  etnpliasis  on,  95;  com- 
munity of,  166 

Rocky  Mountains,  266 

Rodbertus,  doctrine  of,  2g6 

Roman  Catholic  cfiurch,  and  modern 
democracy,  76;  reforms  in,  in  France, 
257.    See  also  Church. 

Roman  Catholicism,  ideals  of  mediasval, 
43,  44;  and  divine  authority  in 
church  and  state,  03,  194,  195;  and 
economic  transformation,  245;  in 
Germany,  307;  increase  of,  in  the 
United  States,  170,  314;  and  national- 
ism, 394 

Roman  Catholics  and  Protestants  in  the 
United  States,  278 

Roman,  church,  equality  in,  75,  76; 
concept  of  peace,  331 ;  provinces,  230; 
system  of  government,  40-42 

Roman  Empire,  a  tyranny,  29;  and  the 
church,  188,  189;  and  the  province, 
230;  international  law  of,  363 

Rome,  politics  of,  39;  system  of  govern- 
ment of,  40-42;  democracy  of,  74; 
oligarchy  of,  125;  a  civitas,  159;  com- 
munity of  habit  in,  161,  162;  the  city- 
state  of,  182-187,  204,  229,  230;  col- 
lective will  in,  229,  230;  church  and 
state  in,  231;  devastated  by  war,  327 

Rondibilis,  150 

Roumania,  437 

Rousseau,  50,  55,  213,  334,  341, 345, 382; 
and  the  free  man,  51;  and  Kant,  103, 
347,  348;  his  form  of  the  contract 
theory,  192,  197;  on  might  and  right, 
196;  his  idea  of  popular  sovereignty, 
263;  attitude  of,  toward  emigration, 
283;  his  "Extract"  a  contribution  to 
peace  Utopias,  342 

Rousseauists,  212,  263 

Rulers,  democratic  attitude  toward,  96 

Russia,  130,  138,  372,  396,  404,  411,  430, 
437;  anarchy  in,  8,  15,  295,  314,  383, 
449;  democracy  in,  106;  in  war,  129; 
under  the  Czars,  157,  227;  nationali- 
ties in,  157,  158,  370,  456;  a  nation  in 
primitive  Oriental  sense,  220;  social 
classes  in,  228;  agricultural  laborers 
of,  239;  increase  in  population  of,  282; 
treatment  of  Americans  in,  361;  ex- 
pansionist policy  of,  before  the  war, 
368;  Russification  of,  389,  400,  401; 
menace  to  Germanism,  400;  and  the 
Entente,  400;  natural  ally  for  Ger- 
many, 401;  expansion  of,  across  Asia, 
396,  403;  terms  of  agreement  with, 
40s;  and  Balkan  control,  407;  polic- 
ing of,  4 1 2 ;  and  integrity  of  Denmark, 
417;  desire  of,  for  free  outlet  to  Me- 
diterranean, 428;  object  of,  in  war, 
433;  Great  and  Little,  449,  450 

Russian  Duma,  the,  104 


Russian  Terror,  the,  264 
Rulhenians,  449,  450 

St.  Augustine,  194 

St.  Pierre,  Charles,  334,  382;  project  of, 

for  perpetual  peace,  34°-343.  345 
St.  Simon,  292,  351 
Saintine,  211 

Salisbury,  Lord,  401,  404,  407 

San  Francisco,  midway  point  of  Ameri- 
can possessions,  466 

Savagery,  traces  of  primitive,  in  modern 
customs,  203,  204 

Scandinavia,  the  Reformation  in,  244; 
progress  in,  448 

Schmoller,  Gustav  von,  99;  quoted,  100, 

lOI 

Schopenhauer,  328;  style  and  graphic 
power  of,  355 

Schultze-Delitsch  movement,  the,  307 

Schwarzenberg,  178 

Scotch  Presbyterians,  195 

Scotland,  absolutism  in,  46;  royalty 
and  Presbyterianism  in,  48;  in  Middle 
Ages,  239;  the  Reformation  in,  244, 
24s;  land  tenure  in,  268,  269 

Scottish  Covenanters,  the,  48 

Seas,  freedom  of  the,  414,  428,  460 

Secret  diplomacy,  58,  369,  375,  404,  406 

Self-assertion,  86 

Self-denial,  131,  138;  new  views  about, 
119 

Self-depreciation,  American  character- 
istic, 134 

Self-government,  misleading  term,  81, 
82;  and  good  government,  123;  of 
European  states,  370 

Self-help,  importance  of,  309 

Self-knowledge,  American,  134,  135,  457 

Seneca,  40,  331 

Servia,  437 

Servians,  aspirations  of,  for  Servian 

empire,  409 
Servility,  and  American  democracy,  134 
Servitude,  voluntary,  and  freedom,  138 
Shakespeare,  Soi,  360 
Shelley,  43 

Shemites,  the,  city-states  of,  38 
Sicilies,  the  two,  neutrality  of,  violated, 

Sidgwick,  312 

Sidney,  49 

Sidon,  165,  228 

Simon  of  Montfort,  252 

Slave,  the,  314,  400,  402;  race,  164 

Slavery,  the  new,  142,  143;  influence  of 

the  land  on,  266 
Slavism,  437 
Smith,  Adam,  313 
Snobs,  102 

Social  classes,  in  19th  century,  291  et 
seq.;  in  the  United  States,  208-210; 
no  rigid,  303-305 


INDEX 


487 


Social  conscience,  the,  117-119, 123-125, 
ijo,  214 

Social  contract  theory  of  government. 
See  Contract  theory 

Social  democracy,  in  Germany,  104; 
in  the  United  States,  313 

Social  Democrats,  307 

Social  justice,  95;  meaning  of,  367,  368 

Social  origin  of  man,  25-34,  92,  337 

Social  rights,  87,  215,  216 

Social  unrest,  117  c/  seg. 

Socialism,  s,  7,  12-16;  and  the  war,  8; 
three  classes  of,  14;  menace  of 
extreme,  286,  287;  in  France,  291- 
294;  in  England,  293,  294;  in  Ger- 
many, 295;  the  prophets  of,  295,  296; 
doctrine  of,  296-298;  terminology  of, 
299;  and  state  control,  301;  fallacies 
of,  302-304;  destructive  to  the  na- 
tion, 304;  in  the  sense  of  improve- 
ment, 306;  Christian,  307-309;  his- 
torical school  of,  311,  312;  of  the 
chair,  312,  313;  in  Europe,  314 

Socialists,  Christian,  3,  294,  307-309; 
historical  school  of,  311,  312 

Socialized  democracies  and  peace,  436 

Sociology,  169,  174 

Socrates,  40,  184 

Sophists,  the,  40,  42;  view  of  war  of,  326 
South  Africa,  wars  in,  148;  public  lands 
of,  270 

Sovereign,  relation  of,  to  individuals,  181 

Sovereignties,  state,  number  of,  and  pos- 
sibility of  peace,  10 

Sovereignty,  no  means  to  enforce,  23, 
24;  unlimited  ecclesiastical,  44; 
definitions  of,  46,  166,  263,  388;  popu- 
lar, 46,  48,  SI,  55,  263;  restraint  on 
abuse  of  popular,  63;  popular  and 
evolution  of  democracy,  77,  78;  not 
exerted  by  individuals,  82;  the  doc- 
trine of,  191,  192;  Oriental  theory  of 
national,  193;  relation  of  individual 
to,  259;  dependent  on  territory,  261- 
265;  theory  of  state,  364,  365 

Spain,  406;  democratic  state  of  mind  in, 
106;  neutrahty  of,  violated,  150; 
economic  descent  of,  245;  and  colon- 
ization, 245;  and  revolution  of  1789, 
257 

Spanish-American  War,  the,  131,  366, 

376,  378,  392 
Sparta,  tyranny  in,  98,  99;  a  polis,  159; 

restriction  of  population  by,  281 
Spencer,  Herbert,  195;  quoted,  289 
Spinoza,  325,  327 

State,  the,  genesis  of,  24-29;  primitive 
form  of,  28;  an  organism  of  organ- 
isms, 30,  31;  individual  the  product 
of,  32-34;  Uberty  impossible  without, 
34;  popular  sovereignty  in,  44,  per- 
sonality of,  95,  96,  102,  103,  287,  288; 


and  democratic  state  of  mind,  oS. 
96;  personality  of,  limited,  102; 
German  idea  of,  103;  cultural  forces 
entrusted  to,  138,  139;  separation  of 
church  from,  47,  187-190,  240,  250, 
332;  an  institution  ordained  of  God, 
194,  19s;  rudiments  of,  in  ancient 
East,  220;  and  history,  220;  and 
church  in  Byzantium,  231;  medixval, 
233  et  seg.;  modern,  247  et  seg.; 
purely  economic,  impossible,  304; 
coercive  and  directive  powers  of,  31 1, 
312;  federation  and  world  peace,  323; 
and  war,  326,  327;  idea  of  a  super- 
state, 363;  and  reciprocal  independ- 
ence, 365,  366;  intervention,  an  ad- 
vance toward  peace,  381,  382 

State-interference,  doctrine  of,  279; 
in  society,  287,  288;  demanded  by 
sociahsts,  301;  evils  of,  309,  310; 
in  the  United  States,  318 

State  socialism,  13,  14,  87,  279,  309,  310, 
444 

State  system,  European,  transformation 
of,  133 

State  papers,  kinds  of,  393 

States,  American,  laboratories  for  test- 
ing novelties,  143,  144;  constitution 
of,  2S9 

States'  rights,  the  question  of,  170 
Statesmanship,  415 

Statesmen,  field  of  study  for,  172;  and 

history,  178 
Stoecker,  307 

Stoicism,  maxims  of,  184,  185,  229,  231 

Stoics,  the,  and  inherent  rights,  40;  phil- 
osophy of,  184,  1 8s;  concept  of  fra- 
ternity of,  330 

Strachey,  Sir  John,  219 

Stranger,  the,  as  an  enemy  and  as  a 
friend,  326 

Strategy,  greatest  thing  in  war,  147;  of 
peace,  148 

Suarez,  192,  194,  207 

Suez  Canal,  411,  427 

Suffrage,  expansion  of,  61-65;  privi- 
leged, 63;  limitations  in  exercise  of, 
64;  universal,  a  check  on  pure  de- 
mocracy, 70-72;  as  a  duty,  79;  wo- 
man, 59,  80,  112,  113;  negro,  113 

Sulla,  125 

Superman,  the,  124,  315 
Super-state,  idea  of  a,  363 
Sweden,  national  opinion  in,  344 
Switzerland,  pure  democracy  in,  79; 
neutrality  of,   112;    community  of 
rights  in,  165,  166;  in  Middle  Ages, 
239;  Protestants  and  Roman  Catho- 
lics in,  245;  and  revolution  of  1789, 
257;  and  the  Gotthard  railway,  429; 
progress  in,  448 
Syria,  460L 
Syrians,  439 


488 


INDEX 


Tacitus,  3.5  r 

Talent,  career  open  to,  in  Orient,  75 
Taxation,  as  a  gift,  doctrine  of,  ,5,3; 
basic  to  all  government,  68;  and  de- 
mocracy, 8g,  96,  143;  without  repre- 
sentation, 255,  256;  and  public  ex- 
penditure, 316;  for  prosecuting  war, 
366;  and  social  justice,  367 
Teachers,  inadequacy  of  preparation  for, 
114 

Teutons,  free  spirit  of  primitive,  188; 

and  individualism,  233 
Terence,  185 

Territory,  sovereignty  dependent  on, 

261-265 

Theocracy,  survivals  of,  i8r,  182;  Jew- 
ish, 193;  in  American  colonies,  195; 
in  Nile  and  Euphrates  Valleys,  222, 
223 

Theologians,  of  17th  century,  335,  336 
Theory  and  history,  171;  relation  of,  to 

fact,  193  et  seg. 
Thiers  government,  the,  373 
Thirty  Years'  War,  the,  159,  340 
Thought,  partial  emancipation  of,  39 
Thucydides,  325 
Tocqueville,  De,  443 
Tories,  American,  50 
Toryism,  concept  of  representation  of, 

68;  and  taxation,  25s,  256 
Totemism,  27 

Tours,  the  Abbe  of,  his  project  for  per- 
petual peace,  340-343 
Town  government,  new  forms  of,  144 
Townshend,  255 

Trade,  and  the  nation,  217;  routes  of  the 
world,  free  highways,  362;  free,  428 

Treaties,  362;  American  success  in  mak- 
ing, 133;  and  a  United  States  of  the 
World,  362;  violation  of,  367;  popu- 
lar participation  in  making  of,  376, 
377 

Tribes,  federation  of,  204 
Trieste,  Italian  claim  to,  428 
Triple  Alliance,  the,  396,  429 
Tripoli,  406 

Tropics,  the,  resources  of,  282 
Trouillogan,  150 

Truce,  an  armed,  first  step  toward  peace, 
434 

Trusts,  and  representation  of  mterests, 

70;  and  the  war,  386 
Turkey,  a  nation  in  primitive  Oriental 

sense,  220;  fanatical  element  of,  394; 

alliance  of,  with  Germany,  401,  402; 

plan  to  dismember,  406;    plea  for 

expulsion  of,  from  Europe,  414,  415; 

under  international  police  force,  439 
Turkish  Revolution,  the,  408 
Twelve  Tables  of  Rome,  the,  41,  i6i 
Tyranny,  rise  of,  38,  39;  government  by, 

61;  in  democracies,  98,  99,  io6,  116, 

121,  126 
Tyre,  228 


Ukraine,  the,  efforts  of,  for  national 

existence,  449,  450 
Ulpian,  school  of,  41 
Unions,  labor,  118 

United  States  of  America,  the,  at  war 
and  at  peace,  58,  59!  democracy  in, 
79  el  seg.,  106;  free  education  in, 
113-iiS;  constitution  of,  131,  169, 
258,  259;  in  war,  131-133;  political 
results  of  wars  of,  131;  military 
system  of,  132;  efficiency  of,  in  inven- 
tion, 132;  success  of,  in  diplomacy, 
133.  134;  immigrants  in,  136,  137, 
283,  284,  389,  457,  461,  465;  rever- 
sion to  colonialism  in,  137;  new 
slavery  in,  142,  143;  novelties  tested 
by  states  of,  143,  144;  army  and  navy 
of,  in  Civil  War,  148;  economic 
unity  in,  163;  political  speculation  in, 
169-171;  existence  of,  great  fact  of 
the  hour,  178;  contempt  of,  for  em- 
pirics and  ideologues,  178,  179;  social 
classes  in,  208-210;  and  law-breakers, 
210;  progress  of,  as  Protestant  coun- 
try. 24s;  amendment  of  constitu- 
tion of,  258,  259;  state  constitutions 
of,  258,  259;  democracy  socialistic 
in,  259;  reaction  of  land  upon  peo- 
ple in,  265-267;  influence  of  physical 
characters  in,  265-267;  homesteading 
in,  269,  270;  supply  of  public  lands 
exhausted  in,  269,  270;  the  land  ques- 
tion in,  270-274;  metayer  system  in, 
270,  272;  enormous  increase  in  popu- 
lation of,  276,  277;  desire  for  least 
government  in,  277;  political  and 
social  system  of,  277  el  seg.;  majority 
rule  in,  277;  decline  of  public  spirit 
in,  278;  practical  Christianity  in, 
278;  state-interference  in,  279-281, 
289,  290,  310,  311,  315,  318; 
abuse  of  state  protection  in,  280;  na- 
turalization laws  of,  284;  radical 
reform  in  rules  of  immigration  needed 
in,  284,  285;  moral  remedy  for 
threatening  dangers  from  overpopu- 
lation in,  285-288;  government  re- 
gulation in,  288-290;  a  duty  to  com- 
bat the  sociahstic  danger  in,  301,  302; 
Christian  socialism  in,  307;  state 
socialism  in,  310,  311;  social  de- 
mocracy in,  3:3;  social  conditions  in, 
before  the  great  war,  313,  314;  in- 
crease of  Roman  Catholicism  in,  314; 
restoration  of  checks  and  balances  of 
power  in,  315,  316;  relative  impor- 
tance of  local  and  general  government 
in,  316;  taxation  and  public  expendi- 
ture in,  316;  high  cost  of  living  in, 
317;  sectionaUsm  in,  317;  concepts 
of  peace  in,  357  el  seg.;  in  war  of  1914- 
igi8,  314,  361  el  seg.;  reasons  of,  for 
entering  war,  361,  369,  370,  381;  a 
world-power,  362,  369;   and  expan- 


INDEX 


489 


sion,  360;  and  political  liberty,  372; 
constitutional  government  of,  372, 
373;  public  opinion  consulted  in  wars, 
375 ;  an  example  in  harmonizing 
raimicipal  with  public  law,  379,  380; 
confidence  in  administration  during 
war,  301;  unity  of  action  of,  in  war, 
391;  Germans  in,  402,  425,  426;  aims 
and  ideals  of  peace,  411,  412;  and 
settlement  of  map  of  Europe,  411, 
412,  416;  and  economic  question  in 
peace  settlement,  427;  ready  to  en- 
force terms  of  peace,  43 1 ;  admirable 
course  of  administration  in,  431; 
public  opinion  regarding  terms  of 
peace  needed  in,  431,  432;  object  of, 
m  entering  war,  433;  after-war  prob- 
lems of,  435  et  seq.;  shifting  nature 
of  democracy  of,  443-445;  church 
and  state  in,  444;  transformation 
of  society  in,  444;  efficiency  of,  446, 
454i  455 ;  a  model  member  in  family 
of  democratic  nations,  446;  obliga- 
tions toward  European  states,  448, 
449;  desire  of,  for  world-wide  em- 
pire of  justice  and  reason,  451;  peace 
as  test  of  democracy  of,  454  et  seq.;  the 
dictating  of  peace  by,  455;  self- 
knowledge  would  be  world-knowledge, 
for,  457 ;  conspicuous  example  of  co-or- 
dinating municipal  law  with  inter- 
national law,  457;  first  to  declare 
war  in  support  of  international  law, 
457;  Atlantic  and  Pacific  questions 
of,  460  et  seq.;  training  of  representa- 
tives to  the  Orient,  464;  the  east  and 
the  west  in,  469 
United  States  of  Europe,  a,  362,  380 
United  States  of  the  World,  a,  362 
Universal  rights,  principles  of,  40 
Universities,  new  task  for,  115-117 
Utilitarianism,  214 
Utrecht,  Treaty  of,  340,  362,  363 

Verdun,  Treaty  of,  402 
Versailles,  Treaty  of,  10 
Vico,  348 

Vienna,  Congress  of,  164;  Treaty  of, 
10,  362,  414 

Village  tenure,  survivals  of,  268 

Virgin  Islands,  the,  466 

Virginia  Bill  of  Rights,  the,  55 

Virtue,  personal,  and  communal,  119, 
121,  184,  319;  personal,  and  democ- 
racy, 260;  industrial,  138 

Voltaire,  340 

Vote,  the,  personal  choice  in,  57 
Voter,  the,  qualifications  of,  64 

Waldus,  pacifism  of,  332 


War,  civilized,  32;  democracy  in,  58,  59, 
127  et  seq.,  145,  427,  435;  and  his- 
tory, 324  el  seq.,  370,  371 ;  the  law  of 
the  world,  325;  as  a  condition  or  a 
crime,  327;  Hebrew  attitude  toward, 
329;  Greek  attitude  toward,  330; 
Grotius's  treatise  on  law  of,  337,  338; 
the  actuality  of  history,  357;  loans, 
366;  and  the  referendum,  366;  popu- 
lar participation  in  making,  375;  and 
natural  science,  378;  costs  of,  383; 
mobihzation  for  conduct  of,  383 ;  and 
capitalists,  386;  the  background  of 
every,  388 

War  of  1914-1918,  the  "Great  War," 
7;  Germans  in,  100;  and  democracy, 
127  et  seq.,  145,  427,  435;  Europe  re- 
volutionized by,  314,  315;  reasons  of 
the  United  States  for  entering,  314, 
361,  369,  370,  381;  statement  of 
causes  of,  necessary,  390,  391 ;  origins 
of,  393  et  seq.;  causes  of,  in  Balkans, 
395;  respective  responsibility  of 
belligerents,  406-408;  chief  and  con- 
tributing causes  of,  408;  Great  Bri- 
tain's reasons  for  entering,  422;  ob- 
jects of  Allies  in,  433 

War  of  Independence,  accepted  doctrine 
at  close  of,  55 

War^  of  1776,  131;  of  1812,  131;  of 
1848,  131 

Washington,    George,   a  consummate 

strategist,  147;  and  theocracy,  194 
Washington,  D.  C,  society  of,  89,  90 
Wealth,  normal  process  of  accumulating, 
303 

Weak,  protection  of  the,  87 
West  Indies,  369 

Westphalia,  Treaty  of,  340,  362,  363 
Wheaton,  his  definition  of  international 

law,  364,  383 
Whigs,  in  England  and  America,  49,  50 
Will,  popular.    See  Popular  will 
William  II,  401;  policy  of,  396;  mouth- 
piece and  tool  of  bureaucratic  regime, 
405 

Wilson,  President,  447;  quoted,  419,  420 
Windward  Islands,  the,  466 
Wisconsin,  122 
Wolfi,  295,  383 

Woman  suffrage,  and  increased  cost  of 
elections,  59,  80;  universal,  63;  in 
America,  113;  in  Great  Britain,  112 

Women,  and  the  new  social  and  econ- 
omical poUtics,  116,  117 

Words,  changes  in  meaning  of,  155,  156 

Work,  compulsory,  121;  and  economic 
transformation,  245 

Zoroaster,  teaching  of,  329 


